


Ashes

by Dellessa



Series: Night Cycle Verse [8]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Death, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Underage Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:03:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red Alert's life was finally running smoothly, or as smooth as things could be when something from his past comes back to rip his present happiness to shreds. Those around him are dragged down with him into a dangerous game that none of them may escape alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ashes

Title: Ashes  
Verse: Transformers G1 AU  
Series:Night Verse  
Rating: M  
Warnings/Content: Character Death. Dub-con. Incest. Mentions of Child Abuse. Mentions of Underage. Non-con. Torture. Violence.  
Pairings/Characters: Red Alert/Vortex. Inferno/Red Alert. OC/Sideswipe/Sunstreaker.  
Notes:Not mine!!!  
Words: 27,113

Red Alert wandered through the market, as he made his way to see his brothers. It was almost possible to ignore the silent escorts as he walked. The four mechs walked close, shadowing his movements. It was always a worry that Vortex would try to kidnap him again. There had been several attempts, and Red Alert had no doubt that there would be several more. A half-vorn had passed in the interim, and he had grown into his frame and finally had his final upgrade.

On one servo, it meant he did not see Inferno nearly enough for his taste. The large mech had finally been apprenticed with Streetwise, and was one of the search and rescue team now. He had responsibilities and worries that had little to do with Red.

On the other servo, he did get to see his brother’s much more often than he thought he would. Sunstreaker more often than Sideswipe. His red brother traveled a lot, going from city-state to city-state gathering goods to import to his shop and sell along with Sunstreaker’s paintings. He seemed to enjoy it, and Red Alert loved to see the wondrous things from other places. Sometimes he would even bring items from off-planet, from organic worlds. He brought Red Alert capes, cloaks and veils made out of the most delicate materials. Sometimes he would pose for Sunstreaker in them and his brother would paint him. It was all very exciting to the young bot, leaving him giddy at the thought of what he would see when he arrived.

Sunstreaker was waiting for him at the door, pulling him to a tight hug as he drew near.

“Red,” Sunstreaker said, kissing his forehelm. “I missed you.” As brisk as he was to everyone else, he was always very careful to Red Alert, he acted as though he might accidentally break his brother. The treatment left Red sighing, but he accepted it knowing full well what his brother went through.

“I missed you too, Sunny,” he hugged his brother tightly. “What are we doing today?”

Sunstreaker beamed, “Sides left some treats before he left, and I was hoping you would pose for me.”

Red Alert beamed, “You know I always will.” He held onto his brother more tightly, feeling warm and safe. They had grown so close, surprisingly so to Red. He had never thought that he would be able to really trust anyone again, but it was surprisingly easy to let these people into his life. Surprisingly easy to let his spark open up to them. They would never be a trine, but they were his brothers, and he did love them dearly.

He just wished that they would find someone like he had, and be as happy as he was. There was always a lingering shadow in Sunstreaker’s optics. Bluestreak had hurt him in ways that Red could not even imagine. It would have been easier if he could have hated Bluestreak for what he had done to Sunny, but that was nearly impossible. The mech was so sweet and kind, so very devoted to Prowl.

Sunstreaker smiled, wholly unaware of his brother’s inner dialogue. “Wonderful. Sideswipe brought in a new shipment of Organic fabrics. I figure we could drape you in them. I think they will go beautifully with your plating.”

“If that is what you want,” Red said as Sunstreaker lead him towards the energon preparation area. There were several plates laying out with energon sweets. Jelled and candied energon. Dainty little crystal cakes and tarts. Rust sticks rolled in crystals. It made Red Alert’s mouth water. “For me? You are going to make me bulge out of my plating.”

Sunstreaker laughed, “You would be lovely even if you did.” He said, his gaze hot for a moment before he made his expression go blank.

Red Alert snorted, “Well, I wouldn’t like it.” He still dug in to the bounty presented, grabbing a crystal cake he ate it slowly, optics half lidded as he savoured the treat. He was in no hurry though, he knew he would bring any leftovers home to share with Inferno. That mech did appreciate his rust sticks.

Sunstreaker watched him, despite himself, optics settling on Red Alert’s mouth. His engine revved loudly, leaving him looking flustered when Red caught him watching. Red’s lips curled in amusement, glad that the guards stayed outside. He was even more relieved that he had already talked to Inferno about this possibility. “Sunny?” He let his panel snap open, nearly laughing at the comically stunned look on Sunstreaker’s face.

The scent of lubricant drifted through the air. It dripped out of Red Alert’s clenching valve, tickling as it wound down his leg. “You do want me, don’t you?” Red Alert asked finally, snapping Sunstreaker out of the daze he had fallen in.

“I-I don’t understand,” Sunstreaker said, his optics hazy with lust and a great deal of confusion.

“I want you, you clearly want me. It’s simple, dearest,” Red Alert said gently. “Inferno thought is best I at least---try.”

“And get me out of your system?” Sunstreaker asked, sounding hurt.

“No, it’s not like that. I can’t bond you, but I can---”

Sunstreaker didn’t let him finish, he found himself pushed onto the counter, his legs pushed apart, and Sunstreak was sheathed in him leaving Red grasping and clinging to Sunstreaker’s shoulder. His legs came up, around Sunstreaker’s hips, his ankles hooking together above Sunstreaker’s aft, pressing his brother closer. His valve spasmed, clenching hard against the invading spike.

Sunstreaker huffed slightly, nuzzling Red’s neck cording. “Did I hurt you?”

Red Alert’s mouth opened, a needy moan escaped. “No. P-please.” The spike felt giant inside him. If he was not already been so lubricated the movement would have hurt.

Sunstreaker circled his hips, noting the way his brother cried out. “Are you sure?” he teased.

Red Alert gasped loudly when the spike inside of him hit the ceiling node, over and over. The stretch was nearly unbearable. Inferno did not fill him quite this way. It was different but wonderful all the same. “I---oh---oh...”

Sunstreaker laughed against Red Alert’s audial, pulling out nearly completely to push all the way in, their interface housing clanking together and the spike’s blunt tip hitting the ceiling node over and over again. Red Alert shrieked, clawing at Sunstreaker’s back plating.

Red Alert panted underneath him, his valve fluttered as he was dangled over the edge and held there, pace slowing. Red Alert whimpered, whined, and made the most appealing noises that Sunstreaker had ever heard. He wanted to draw it out as long as he could, half afraid he would never hear it again. Never feel that tight warmth rippling and clenching around him. “Sides is so jealous. He wants this too,” he whispered, spark clenching and half scared as he moved slowly in and out of Red Alert.

Red Alert looked up at him, optics dim. “I want that too. So much. I want---I want Inferno to watch you take me. I--oh, pitt---I---I want to see you take Inferno.” He whimpered, hips bucking up to meet Sunstreaker’s slow thrusts. “P-please, faster.”

Sunstreaker purred, watching Red Alert come unraveled. He could feel that he was close. So very close to the edge, but he held off, savouring the stretch around him, and the tremors that fluttered through Red Alert’s valve. Red cried out when Sunstreaker finally sped up the pace, pounding into the tight valve hard enough to send Red screaming in overlead, his own chasing right after it.

Red Alert fell limp in Sunstreaker’s arms, strutless and blissed out. “That was perfect,” he slurred, sounding as though he was drunk on highgrade. He curled against Sunstreaker’s chest as he was scooped up in Sunstreaker’s arms and carried to the twin’s berthroom. Sunstreaker laid him down gently, as if he was made of glass, and curled around him. Sunstreaker pet Red Alert’s plating, content bask in the afterglow.

Red Alert sighed contentedly, and wiggled against Sunstreaker. His aft grinding against Red Alert’s interface panel. “Again,” he whined, his own panel snapped back open.

“Again?” Sunstreaker asked, surprised.

“Yes, please,” Red Alert arched back, catching Sunstreaker’s lips.

Sunstreaker chuckled, “Pit, how could I refuse that, you beg so beautifully little brother.” He nuzzled the back of Red Alert’s neck cording. His other hand slid down abdominal plating, ghosting across Red’s open interface array, and finally settled on Red Alert’s thigh. He hooked his hand around it and lifted, setting Red Alert’s leg back behind his own. His own panel snicked back open spike pressurizing so fast it was nearly painful.

Red Alert wiggled, moaned and tried to roll off of his side, but Sunstreaker held him fast, slowly pushing into his valve, only to pull out completely and start the slow, teasing process all over again.

“Sunny. Pl-please, I need more,” Red Alert moaned, “Please.”

Sunstreaker gave a little bark a a laugh, hiking up Red Alert’s leg higher he picked up the pace until Red Alert was on the very edge, and begging him again.

He thrust in all the way grinding against the ceiling node, before pulling out completely and rolled them over, pushing Red Alert down onto his servos and knees. He hummed appreciatively at the view, before pushing back in, in one long stroke, over and over again.

Red Alert whimpered, optics shut tight as he clenched at the mesh bedding. His valve fluttered and clenched as Sunstreaker finally pushing him over the edge, transfluid hitting already sensitive nodes. He collapsed against the berth, purring. He stretched out, curling back against his brother once the golden mech finally fell the the berth panting.

Red Alert sidled over to him still squirming, and wiggling. “Sunny...”

Sunstreaker opticed Red Alert, “Again?”

“I just--I just need---” He whimpered, and Sunstreaker became suddenly worried. This was all so very unlike Red Alert.

“Fine, If you need it,” he leaned down catching Red Alert’s lips again.

It was several groons later that he finally left an exhausted Red Alert tucked under a cooling mech in the berthroom. He felt past the edge of endurance himself. He pinged Knock Out, only halfway expecting the mech to answer.

::What is it, Sunstreaker?:: came Knock Out’s drawl on the other side of the comm.

Sunstreaker was silent a moment as he formulated exactly what to say, and how to say it without pushing Knock Out into a snit. ::I...um...I think there is something wrong with Red. He’s not...acting right.::

::What do you mean by ‘he’s not acting right’?:: came Knock Out’s hesitant reply.

::He---I---That is---we---might’ve fragged like two turbo rabbits in heat,:: Sunstreaker replied, more than a little flustered.

::It is exactly like that, actually. We figured it would be soon, and it’s just as well that he isn’t here. Inferno would have most certainly sparked him up,:: Knock Out replied.

::What do you mean it’s the same thing?:: Sunstreaker snapped over the comm.

Knock Out laughed on the other end. ::I mean he’s in heat. All carriers go into it when their fertility peaks. It generally only happens once a vorn. It most likely won’t last more than a deca-cycle.::

::WHAT!!!::

::Just keep him entertained until it passes. He doesn’t need to be back here. Not with Inferno. Besides, the chances of you sparking him up are infinitesimal,:: Knock Out reasoned.

::Why am I---sure---whatever,:: he ended the conversation dropping the link with a huff. This was the last thing he wanted to hear.

 

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Prism had never met Bluestreak, one of his elder brothers, but he could always tell when his carrier was thinking about the mech. Mimic’s gaze would take on a far off look, and his field would flair full of sadness and despair. The young mech found it very hard to relate to his carrier. The mech was standoffish and distant, as much as his sire was the complete opposite. It was Skullduggery that Prism ran to when he fell or hurt himself as a youngling. It was his sire who eased bad memory fluxes away and fixed him energon treats when he came home from school.

He had been terrified when he was told he might be sent away with Bluestreak, but that had never happened, much to Prism’s relief. Prowl had no interest whatsoever in Ruse or Quirk. They had both taken after their sire, and were sleek---if small---Seekers. Prism envied his older brothers in this. They could soar and glide far above Praxus on their own power, while he was stuck ground bound.

He took it all in stride, though. Prism was not the sort of mech to let such things stand in his way or bring him down. No, he had made it through the Art Academy, on his own merit, and worked hard on whatever he chose to do, Even when his creators did not quite appreciate his efforts, at least in this. Even Skullduggery did not see the arts as an appropriate pursuit of his time, but he at least let it go and let Prism do as he pleased.

It was easier when mechs started to buy his pieces and he made enough to rent a little studio space. There was less fights at home. Out of optic, out of processor, he guessed. His family could have easily paid for him to have a bigger space, but he was not going to ask for it. Being cramped was worth the freedom that it afforded.

He let all of his worries slip away as he slipped inside and pulled the cover off of his most recent work. It was nearly finished, luckily. He was going to take image captures of it when he was finished and take them to Dichotomy and hope that Sideswipe would like what he see and give him some gallery space.

The thought made him giddy with anticipation. He might even get to meet Sunstreaker if he was really lucky. He had admired the mech since he was a small bitlet, his sire having taken him to many of the shows that Sideswipe held. He had spent many a joor hunting for the little red mechling in those paintings and had been absolutely thrilled when his identity had been revealed. It was such a romantic story. He had been surprised as everyone when Red Alert was not bonded to them, but was being courted by yet another bot.

From what his sire said he knew that Red Alert was under the protection of the Master of their house. He had only met Lord Prowl a few times, it left him shaking. Especially the last time. The mech opticed him as if he wanted to gobble him up like an energon sweet. He had been so scared that time that he would be taken away the way Bluestreak was and he would never see his family again. It had been all he could do not to curl up, and cry....or beg at Prowl’s peds not to take him away. He still was not entirely sure what changed Prowl’s processor and allowed him to stay. He thanked Primus everyday for it though.

He puttered around the sculpture, deciding what still needed refined. He was not entirely sure who the mech was, aside from being one of his ancestors. The painting that hung in the great hall was only titled with the name of ‘Crystalwave.’ The sparkling he was holding in the picture was unnamed, but his cute, round cheeks and tiny little doorwings had always amused Prism. Neither mech looked quite Praxian. Their doorwings were miniscule, and the tilt to their optics slightly exotic. When he was a small bitlet he had made up all manner of stories about the bots portrayed in the many pictures hanging in the great hall. even Prowl---as much as the mech frightened him.

Prism liked the gentle smile on the mechs face, and wondered, once again who he had been and what had become of him. He had no doubt it was a tragedy. So many of his family had ended that way.

He touched the sculpture, fingers grazing across the smooth crystal surface. Praxian crystal was such a finicky medium to work with. Hit a fissure wrong and the entire work would be ruined. There was also always the difficulty of finding pieces this big. Smaller sculptures of the same crystal lined the shelves of the gallery. None of them felt quite spectacular enough to take to Dichotomy.

He wanted to impress them. Wanted to get into their circle and know those mechs more than anything, to be with kindred spirits. At least he hoped. Some part of him wondered if they were not wholly different than he imagined them to be.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Red Alert frowned, and whined when Sunstreaker pushed him towards the berth draped in gauze. It looked terribly fragile, and he KNEW he would much rather be fragging Sunstreaker than doing whatever it was that his brother planned. “Sunny. Please.”

“No, Red. You can wait a bit,” Sunstreaker laughed, as he draped Red Alert in veils and jewels, dropping kisses across his frame. “Think of how much Sides will appreciate this. Now be good, and lay back, I’m not done with you yet.” He pulled out a false spike from his subspace, grinning wickedly at the look on Red Alert’s faceplates. A half vorn ago he would have whimpered and fled the room at the sight of such a thing, but he knew well enough by now that Sunstreaker was nothing like Vortex. As it was he spread his legs, letting is panel snap open. His valve clenched, eager for something to fill it. Sunstreaker took his time, slowly working the spike inside, until it was fully seated, and the end magnetized to his plating. Sunstreaker optics the jewels covering the end of the false spike, and glittered against Red Alert’s plating.

“It looks good on you,” Sunstreaker purred, rocking his hand against the spike’s jeweled base, and making the spike inside grind against the ceiling node in Red Alert’s valve.

Red wiggled against the berth, pushing up into Sunstreaker’s touch. “Please, Sunny. Don’t leave me this way. I need you. Please.” His vocalizer sputtered, spitting static, and a long drawn out moan when Sunstreaker leaned in, glossa flicking out against the stretched rim of Red Alert’s valve. Just as quickly he moved away, opticing Red Alert critically.

“If you won’t hold still I will have to help you I suppose.”

Red Alert’s optics widened as Sunstreaker pulled out a pair of finely tooled handcuffs, of matching workmanship as the spike inside him. They looked fragile and thin, but he realized they were anything but, as Sunstreaker clamped them on his wrists, fastening them to a hook at the top of the berth that Red Alert had not even noticed previously. He pulled at them, a whimper escaped his vocalized. “Sunny. Please, please. Don’t leave me like this.”

“Shush it will not take long,” he said, turning away to set up his easel, and to carefully open up the organic paints. They were precious and expensive, but Sunstreaker thought it was more than worth the extra cost to procure them. He smiled at the canvas, as he began to paint, and turned on the vibrator. His smile grew as he watched Red Alert whimpered and tried to hold very still despite it all.

“Please, Sunny. Please---let me---oh, scrap. I---ngh,” he gasped, valve rippling around the toy. “Please.” He arched against the bonds, on the cusp of overload, when suddenly the vibrations stopped, leaving him hanging over the edge.

“Beautiful,” Sunstreaker purred, working fast behind the canvas. He took several image captures of Red Alert writhing on the berth, and saved them away for later. There was no telling if he would ever have this opportunity again.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

The last chip fell away with a soft chime as it hit the floor. Prism stepped back, spark pounding. This was it. It was finished. Finally. A smile creeped across his faceplates, growing minutely. It looked perfect, and glowed faintly in the studios lights. He moved closer, and circled the statue checking for blemishes. It had to be perfect. Nothing less would do.

Prism ran fingers across the smooth surfaces checking for rough places, and finding none, he finally stepped back his field buzzing with happiness and pleasure. He could not keep the smile on his face as he took image captures from different angles, and finally loaded them onto a data pad.

He was nearly psyched enough to go see his brother’s with the news, until he received a comm call. He groaned outloud when he realized who it was from. Mimic. His carrier was the last mech that he wanted to talk to at the moment (or ever).

::Sparkling, it is time you came home,:: Mimic started without preamble. ::I have visitors here to see you. You can’t keep them waiting forever. They are important mecha.::

::Carrier...::

::No excuses, sparkling. I will not tolerate your misbehavior any longer,:: Mimic carried on as if Prism had not spoken at all. ::It is past time for you to do your familial duty. It will be up to you to produce a pure Praxian spark for Prowl.::

::No. I won’t do it. I won’t have any sparklings if they will be taken away. I refuse,:: Prism said, cutting the line of communication, and refusing to answer it no matter how many times Mimic minged him. He knew there would be the pit to pay when (and if) he went home, but he refused to go along with Mimic’s plotting. He refused to meet any of the mechs that his carrier wanted him to meet. He just would not do it. He would find his own way in the world if it came down to that.

He would run away. Maybe to Iacon. He had heard good things about that city-state, or maybe to Crystal City. He had heard that there was as many artists as scientists in that city-state. That they would gather in energon bars...and well...be creative together. There was an appeal to it that Praxus did not have. Certainly Praxus was a city of the arts, but it also had Prowl, and that mech was a danger to Prism’s plans. He didn’t want to end up like some breederbot. Or worse still, bitter and unhappy like his creator.

It was time like these that he did wonder if Bluestreak had really fared any better, or...if he was long dead. Prism could not help but wonder if that was the end his brother had met, drained by that monster. He shuddered to think about it, and finally pushed it from his processor. He wasn’t going to make himself sick over it. Not when he had more important things that he needed to do.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Red Alert squirmed in his seat as he waited for his guards to arrive. He finally pulled out a datapad and tried to concentrate on reading one of _The Adventures of Foxfire_ , the newest edition that Inferno had brought him--- _Case 20: The Pretend Prime_ , but even that could not hold his attention. Every time he looked up at Sunstreaker his cheekplating heated up. He didn’t remember everything they did, the entire time was like a hazy dream, but he remembered enough to make his systems heat up anytime the thought entered his processor. He wanted to get back home to Inferno. Even though he had spoken with Inferno about such a thing happening it still made him feel uneasy.

Sunstreaker had shown him the painting. It had left Red wiggling in his seat, hot under his plating. He had asked Sunstreaker what he had done, but his brother had just smiled, that pleased little grin.

It made Red Alert’s engine reev, even if he did not remember what exactly had happened. He wanted to review the recordings he had made, but not here, when he was Inferno. That would be so much easier. He hoped, in any case.

The guards arrived soon enough, leading him away from the gallery and into the streets of Praxus. They moved close, leaving Red Alert feeling claustrophobic. For all that he knew these precautions were necessary it still left him feeling put out.

They tried to rush him through the market, but he had other ideas, veering off to one of the sweets shops. He took his time looking at the candied energons and crystal treats before picking out a box of candied squares for Knock Out and Breakdown, and a whole crystal cake to share with Inferno.

He hummed as he left the shop with his finds, and was tempted to stop at more shops, but he had pity on the guards and let himself be ushered home.

His adoptive creators were waiting for him at the end of the entries stairs. “Brought you two a present.” He said, pressing the box of candies into Breakdown’s arms after he stole a hug.

He optic’d Knock Out, trying to decide if he was irked with him or not. “You knew.”

Knock Out snorted, “Would you rather have it been Prowl, because I guarantee that was what would’ve happened had you been here in this state.”

Red Alert’s optics paled as he considered that possibility. “No. Not in a million vorns. He would never let me see Inferno.”

“Never a truer word spoken,” Knock Out said, “He’s waiting for you by the way. I thought he was going to vibrate right out of his frame in excitement when he realized you would be coming back home today.”

“He missed me?” Red Alert couldn’t help the smile that inched onto his face.

Breakdown snorted, “Does a Seeker have wings?”

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” he said, smile growing as he made his way to his own rooms. He wasn’t terribly surprised when he found Inferno inside.

He squeaked when Inferno tackled him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I missed you so very much, Red. And Sunstreaker pinged me the most interesting vids, frag you are hot,” His engined revved loudly.

“I’m...oh....OH. He...he sent you vids of...of...”

“Of you posing for your portrait, and others. Frag, hot like I said. Wanna watch?” Inferno asked enthusiastically, nearly pulling Red Alert to the vidscreen. Inferno sat down in their usual chair, and pulled Red into his lap. Red watched, more than a little mortified as he moaned and whimpered on the screen, but Inferno seemed to enjoy it, his panel growing hot against Red Alert’s aft.

Red Alert wiggled, the heat was distracting, and made his own frame start to run hot. He leaned back against Inferno’s broad chest, moaning when he felt nimble fingers move across his chassis and rubbed his panel until it finally snapped open.

“Frag, you’re already dripping,” Inferno smiled, pushing one finger into the tight valve, pumping it in and out.

Red Alert pushed his hips up, spreading his legs wide. His helm dropped back against Inferno’s chest. “Please,” he moaned, arching his back, his hips rolling to meet the digit thrusting inside. He squealed when Inferno pushed a second digit in, curling it against sensor nodes.

“I missed you so much,” Inferno smiled against Red Alert’s audial, optics fixed on the vid.

Red Alert whined in reply, crying out when he was lifted and impaled on Inferno’s spike. This was what he wanted the whole time he was gone. No matter how good it had been with Sunstreaker it was not...this.

His valve clenched tight around Inferno, milking the spike. “‘Ferno, please.” He lifted himself off the spike, setting the pace until Inferno grabbed his hips, leaving himself buried deep within the smaller mech.

“What’s the hurry, Red. We have all sol.”

“Please, please---I need. I---” he cried out when Inferno hit the ceiling node just right.

“Shhhh....watch the vid, Red. Look how beautiful you are, how hot.” His engine revved loudly. “The way you squirm and moan.” He nuzzled Red Alert’s neck cording, hips moving at a leisurely pace. “You look good with Sunny, maybe we could go over there together and we could take turns with you, would you like that?”

Red panted, trying to focus on what Inferno was saying. Pleasure zinged through his circuits. “I---oh---yes. I want that.”

“Mmm...I know you do, sweetspark.”

“I do,” Red Alert moaned. Moments later the overload ripped through them both leaving Red Alert falling limply against Inferno, vents heaving.

Inferno groaned, hugging the smaller bot to him tightly. “I’m so glad to have you back.”

Red Alert vented softly, “I’m glad to be back, love. I---I missed you so much.” He turned in Inferno’s arms, heedless of the mess, and settled in, curling against the larger frame. He pressed his audial against Inferno's chest, listening to the steady whirl of his spark, his field radiating his content.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Prism stood in front of Dichotomy, shuffling from ped to ped as he worked up the courage to step inside. The outside at least was intimidating, something hard for him to get past. The datapad was safe in his subspace, it was tempting to check just to make sure it was intact, but he had already pulled it out twice over the walk here. He stalled as long as he could before finally forcing himself into the dark interior.

It was hard not to dash back out and hide somewhere, he was not an outgoing mech by any stretch, but he needed this so badly. If only to prove that he could. He already steeled himself for rejection. He had talked to enough artists to know that the chances of Sideswipe wanting to display his work was slim, but there was a chance.

He forced himself to walk through the gallery, to go slowly and truly look at each painting. They still tugged at his spark, even more knowing the story behind the twin’s lost brother. It was so tragic. He stopped in front of one of the newer paintings, one he had not seen before. It was a portrait of the lost brother, reclining on a bench. It made Prism’s spark clench in envy. He wished someone loved him like that.

“Do you like it?” a voice came beside his shoulder, startling Prism.

The small mech turned, optics wide, “I--oh---I---yes I do.”

The tall golden mech beside him smiled. It was enough to make Prism’s spark feel as though it was stuttering behind his chestplates. He had never actually ran into Sunstreaker, as many times as he had visited the gallery.

“It’s beautiful,” Prism added lamely, taking a step away from the mech who towered over him. His doorwings quivered in distress. This was not how things were supposed to go. Sideswipe was not nearly so intimidating.

“Mmm...yes he is,” Sunstreaker said looking down at Prism with a look on his face that made the little Praxian squirm in his plating. “So are you. You have interesting plating. Were you born with those chromo-receptors? Or is that a mod?”

Prism felt his cheekplates heating up, it was a very personal question for someone you had just met. “I suppose it is---um---unusual. I was onlined like this,” he finally said, looking away. He had been teased enough as a youngling about his coloration. If only it was just a uniform milky grey, it would have been nice. But the minute he moved and the light changed his armour would flash orange, green, pink, or even blue. It was colourful in a way that any femme would envy. Coupled with his overly small size, it had left him with more unpleasant encounters than he cared to remember. There were far too many mech’s that wanted him for the way he looked, not caring about HIM in the least. It had left him mistrustful, and more than a little bit skittish about such big mechs.

He couldn’t help the frown that inched onto his face. It was always the big ones that liked to tower over him, and liked the fact that he was so small. He wanted to crawl away and hide somewhere, but that wouldn't’ help him get a showing.

“It is exotic,” Sunstreaker said, brushing a hand across one of Prism’s doorwings. “I would like to paint you one day.”

Prism blinked up at him, wondering if he had just been propositioned or if Sunstreaker was serious about wanting to paint him. It was hard to tell with artists. Not that any of them had ever wanted to paint him. “Oh, I---see---I’m not usually the subject matter of art. I---” he wrung his hands together trying to get the courage to expel it from his vocalizer. “I actually came here to talk to Sideswipe to---to see if I could possibly sell some of my art through your gallery.”

Sunstreaker looked at him assessingley, “You are an artist then? Interesting? Do you have any samples of your work?”

“I---I do,” he said, nearly folding under that regard. He pulled the datapad out of his subspace and handed it over, his hand shaking, much to his dismay.

Sunstreaker took the datapad, flipping through the images he hummed, “This is all yours? Nice, do you have any formal training?”

“I went to the academy,” Prism said, nearly wilting under Sunstreaker’s regard.

Sunstreaker nodded, “Fine bring it in, and get me images of your other work. We’ll talk once I see what else you have. Standard commission fee is 20% to the gallery. Is that acceptable?”

Prism nodded, looking stunned. “I---it is, yes. I’ll bring in the images too,” he said optics wide with shock.

Sunstreaker smile, blindingly. “Good. I will have Sideswipe draw up the contracts for the sale of the sculpture. Is it anyone you know?”

“Just one of my ancestors, there is this...um...painting at my home of him,” Prism said fidgeting, “Crystalwave. He’s been dead for over a millennium from what I understand.”

“So we don’t need any model releases. Good,” he frowned, and nodded. “In the meantime, why don’t you get some energon with me?” The frown melted away as soon as it came, and Prism found himself being steered towards the back of the gallery, and up a stairwell he had never noticed before.

“Oh, I---sure. I don’t have anywhere to be,” he found himself saying, feeling completely stunned as he was lead across what could only be Sunstreaker’s home. It was impossible not to gawk. There was canvas’ propped against a good portion of the walls. It was very open, with light streaming in from a skylight overhead.

“Sit,” Sunstreaker motioned to one of the stools at the long bar.

He left, and came back with a light blue cube of energon, highgrade. Mid-grade never came in that electric shade. It was far more than Prism ever consumed of the stuff. He sipped it, gingerly, optics fixed on Sunstreaker like he would a predator that he thought might just attack him.

“You look nervous,” Sunstreaker finally said, sitting close enough that their fields brushed for a moment before Prism pulled his in tight to his plating. It wasn’t fast enough to keep Sunstreaker from feeling the fear there, he could see it on the golden mech’s faceplates.

“Maybe a little bit,” Prism said, ducking his helm. His cheekplates heated up all over again.

Sunstreaker held up his hands, “I promise not to nibble on you, not a bite, no matter how tempting those doorwings of yours are.”

Prism cracked a little smile, “I see. I will hold you to that.”

Sunstreaker snorted, taking a seat across from Prism, “So, tell me about this Crystalwave mech. You said he was an ancestor of yours?”

“He was part of the royal family before they were all killed. My sire say he died a hero trying to save his sparklings, and the sparklings of his bonded’s brother,” Prism said softly. “It’s very tragic, as I said. He was so beautiful.”

“Yes, he is,” Sunstreaker agreed, smiling softly. “What drew you to art?”

“My sire, I suppose. He noticed that I enjoyed sketching when I was a bitlet, he encouraged me to do it for fun, and it became something more. It was expected that I would have some interest in the arts, but not so much that I would take it up as a career. Bots in my clan do not...generally work, and I---I am expected to bond eventually. I suppose when I do they will make me quit. It is the way of things, they tell me.”

“You sound like someone else I know,” Sunstreaker looked away, and Prism could not help but wonder who he was thinking about.

“It---it is not that uncommon here, in Praxus. I guess. It is the way the noble class works. I know I will have to give it up to make my bonded happy for my family's sake, and I know I will---not have time once I start carrying. I’d like to make the most of the time I do have though. I want to---to do things, and be remembered before it’s all taken away.”

Sunstreaker bristled beside him, “Perhaps it will be different for you.”

Prism let out a bitter little laugh, “No, it won’t. My carrier is already demanding I meet mechs he has selected as possible matches. It is only a matter of time. A showing would make me happy though, even if it’s just the one statue in your gallery. You---well you have already made me very happy for that. Thank you.”

“You know, you don’t have to do what they say. You could walk away from it. You are talented, you could get by.”

“That is nice of you to say, but I have nothing. I---I know no one. It is not as if they let me have friends outside of our circle. I have....well...you really don’t need to hear my problems. Thank you for your concern. It is appreciated,” Prism said in a brittle voice.

“I---frag---I don’t even know what to say to that. I know I just met you, but I would like to help you. You have talent. I can tell that much. You shouldn't’ have to worry about this kind of slag,” Sunstreaker growled beside him, startling Prism.

“It is fine. Honestly. I---I shouldn't have aired out my family’s private matters to you. I just---I’m sorry,” Prism said, pulling his field in as tight as he could. “It was wrong of me. I---I thank you for the courtesy you have shown me, Sunstreaker. I---I really should be going.”

“You don’t have to rush off,” Sunstreaker said, it was hard not to pull the mech to him, and hug him hard. The youngling was clearly buckling under the stress he was under.

“I know I don’t. It---it would be best that I leave. I shall be back later with the image captures. Thank you again,” he said, moving quickly towards the door, leaving a half-empty cube of high-grade.

Sunstreaker watched him go, optics wide with shock. He nearly ran after the mech. Nearly.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

The next decacycle was trying for Prism. He received the contract from Sideswipe, and sent the sigiled copy back through the courier. He spent more time than he cared about arguing with his carrier about the contract. He took to hiding whenever he spotted Mimic heading his way.

Unfortunately, the mech still caught him more times than not, sending him out to meet this mech and that---with a chaperone, of course. It was tiring. He hated them all. Without fail they fell into two categories. Those that would drone on and on about his unique looks, and how wonderful Prism would look in their household as if he was a piece of furniture. Or those that he knew would dictate every klik of his sol if they were bonded, and they made no secret of it. He shivered to think about it. He did not want to be bonded to any of the vile creatures.

He had, at least, gathered up image captures of all of his works to date. it was tucked away safely in his subspace. Instead of going to see Sunstreaker, though, he was stuck being polished and waxed, and generally harangued by his carrier.

Mimic had failed to tell him that his come-out ball would be at the end of the decacycle. It was so short a bit of time, and Mimic seemed intent on shoving in as much comportment lessons as was mechly possibly.

Mimic could not keep an optic on him forever, though, and eventually Prism slipped away to the gallery. He didn’t know if he was relieved or upset when he noticed that Sunstreaker was in residence.

“I wasn’t sure that I was going to see you again,” Sunstreaker said as he accepted the datapad. “I’ve had some interest in the sculpture, a few offers. I was actually considering paying for the piece myself and making it a permanent fixture, we’ll see.”

“Oh, that is good to hear,” Prism murmured. “I honestly doubt I will have any works beyond these. I---it doesn’t matter. Let me know what you are interested in, please.”

Sunstreaker flipped through the images in silence, his optics occasionally flicking up to settle on Prism before sliding away. “All of them,” he finally said. “We will give you a full show, your work deserves nothing less.”

Prism quivered thinking he had heard wrong, “What?”

“I think we should put all of them into a show. Your work is exquisite, as are you,” Sunstreaker said, optics intent on the small mech.

“I---I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I---I can’t even tell you how much this means to be,” he moved awkwardly from ped to ped, looking everywhere but at Sunstreaker’s faceplates. “I don’t have much time---I----my debut is in a deca-cycle. They have already started taking offers for my hand. I do appreciate you doing this for me before----before I lose all freedom.”

“You can still get out of this, you know this? It is your choice,” Sunstreaker said, knowing his frustration was showing through. “You are too talented to waste on that.”

“That is very easily said, Sunstreaker. P-please don't’ fight with me. I--I really don’t want my final time to be...please don’t,” Prism said.

“You could stay here, you could be my apprentice,” Sunstreaker added, looking hopeful.

“You don’t mean that. You don’t know me.”

“I would like to have the chance to,” Sunstreaker said, voice full of frustration.

“I---You---” Prism shook his helm, “I wish that was possible. I---I like you a lot. I---I really do. I--I need to go, Sunstreaker. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for everything,” he said, dashing away before Sunstreaker could stop him.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Mimic quivered with anger, “You---how dare you go against our wishes. I told you that you were to stop this nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense. He---he says I’m talented. People like my work. You did not see all of the mechs that showed up, nearly everything sold. That rarely happens, even Sunstreaker was impressed,” Prism yelled back, just as angry.

“It does not matter, that is not your life. It will never be your life. You will bond. You will produce sparklings. That is the end of it. You should come to terms with your fate and stop this...foolishness,” his carrier snapped, grabbing his arm, and shaking him until Prism let out a pained yelp. “You are being foolish and stupid, bitlet. You should be out with your suitors not...running about with such riff-raff.”

Prism’s armor puffed up threateningly, “Don’t speak of Sunstreaker that way. You don’t know him.”

“And neither will you, ever,” Mimic snapped back, “You will chose one of your suitors at your debut, or I will chose one for you. You will be bonded before the end of the decacycle. That is the end of it.”

“I---you---you can’t mean that. I’m not ready,” Prism said, crying out.

“I do. I already have somemech in mind,” his creator snapped back, “Perhaps he can control you. Perhaps I will bond you to him regardless. Yes, I do think Tradewind could control you.”

Prism quivered, “Not him, please, creator. Please.”

“Clearly, you need a strong hand to keep you in reign,” Mimic hissed.

“Why are you doing this? Your creators never forced you to bond with sire. Why do you hate me so much?” Prism whimpered, backing away.

“You will be the one producing heirs for Prowl. It is completely different. I had other siblings, as you well know. Your first three born will most likely go to him. Your mate will be informed when you bond. I don’t care how you feel about it. This IS the way of things. You need to stop being foolish or you will ruin it for us all.”

“This is all...all about you and your comfort then. You are making my life miserable because you want to keep Prowl happy. What is wrong with you?”

“There is nothing wrong with me, bitlet. Sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Mirage had never seen Sunstreaker so riled up since his brother was abducted. He never did handle emotion well, not in all the time that Mirage had known him. “What has you so worked up?”

“I don’t know what to do. I found this amazing artist. He showed up at the gallery with this amazing statue. i signed him on, because he’s really talented. I think you saw it at the gallery opening. The statue of---”

“Crystalwave. Yes, it was all Barricade talked about for sols. He wanted to buy it in the worst way.”

Sunstreaker shot him a puzzled look, “I didn’t know that. Truly?”

Mirage blinked at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “Crystalwave was his bonded. His first love. Nearly all of the vampires of his line are descendants of Crys.”

“But Prism said that it was....one of his...oh, frag. He looks like Bluestreak. I just. And his creators. I---I can’t let them just bond him off like they want to. He’s so unhappy. I hate that he is. He deserves better.”

Mirage watched the emotions play off of Sunstreaker’s face, “You like him? Obviously you do.”

“I just met him. I don’t even really know him,” Sunstreaker groused.

“But you want the chance, and you want him to be happy,” Mirage gave him a knowing smile. “Perhaps...you can get that chance.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Prowl.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that,” his shoulders fell. “You think he would help?”

“If he doesn’t agree I’ll have Blue make bumblepuppy optics at him. Yes, I’m sure he will help,” Mirage said firmly.

“That could work,” Sunstreaker said, having seen Bluestreak pull that move more than once. The elder vampire folded without fail.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

It was sols later before Sunstreaker had the chance to make his way down to meet with Mirage again and talk to Prowl.

He was nervous, and more than a little scared as he made his way through the citadel.

The golden mech looked relieved when he finally spotted Mirage, waiting for him in the great hall.

“Suntreaker,” Mirage smiled, and ushered Sunstreaker towards Prowl’s study. “He’s waiting for you, a bit puzzled about why you are meeting with him, but he agreed with it all the same. Just remember you can do this. You need his help.”

Sunstreaker pulled a face. Asking for Prowl’s help galled him, but he knew he wasn’t going to get Prism out of this otherwise.

He entered the room, startling to see Prowl was not alone. Bluestreak lounged beside Prowl, his doorwings fluttered gently.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Sunstreaker?” Prowl asked, browplate’s raising.

Sunstreaker froze, his mouth opening. Mirage put a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of it. “I---ah---found this amazingly talented artist.” He pulled out the pad that Prism had given him, and handed it to Prowl. He watched the Praxian flip through it. “He’s amazing, but---he’s from a noble family, and his creators want to force him to bond instead of create art. In fact they want him to stop creating art all together. He’s so very unhappy.”

“You want to make this mech your apprentice?”

“I---yes, very much. An apprentice artist at first, and perhaps eventually a partner in the gallery if things fall out right. He is amazingly talented.”

Prowl frowned, stopping at the image capture of Crystalwave. “I---Barricade just purchased this piece. Who exactly is this mech?”

Sunstreaker shifted from side to side nervously, exchanging a glance with Mirage, who finally spoke up in Sunstreaker’s stead, “We believe he is one of your descendants,” the blue noble said.

“His name is Prism,” Sunstreaker added, shoulder pauldrons falling.

Bluestreak’s optics widened beside Prowl, “Prism? Really? How did you meet my brother?”

“Brother, what?” Sunstreaker sputtered, optics widened with alarm. “I---what?”

Bluestreak sat back, a smile inching across his faceplates, “Oh, Prowl, you should let him. You do want my brother to be happy, don’t you?”

“Bluestreak. You know Mimic already delivered the bonding papers last sol. He is going to be bonded to Tradewind at the end of the deca-cycle.”

Bluestreak made a noise that sounded like a snort. “My brother deserves better than that. If you didn’t care about his happiness you would have taken him, lover. We both know this is true. He feared you, so you backed off and left him to do his own thing.”

Prowl frowned, opticing Sunstreaker critically. “You think this match would make him unhappy I take it?”

“I know it will. They want him to give up who he is,” Sunstreaker said, his tone becoming pleading. “Please, help me, help him.”

Prowl frowned, shifting in his seat. “I don’t know. How do I know your intentions are honorable? How do I know you aren’t lying?”

Bluestreak huffed beside him, “Prowl, stop baiting him.” His lower lip quivered, and his optics got wide giving Sunstreaker a first hand look at what Bluestreak’s supposed bumble puppy optics looked like. It was devastating.

“Fine. Fine. You have my permission,” Prowl huffed, disgruntled. “You need to get to the temple of Primus next Sol. They are bonding then.”

“Day sol, but...I can’t,” Sunstreaker sputtered.

Prowl rolled his optics, “No, through the tunnels, Mirage will show you the way.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Prism trembled as the attendants breezed about him. His optics fixed on the Carnelians that were being affixed to his frame. They matched Tradewind’s plating, certainly, but clashed horribly with his own. He had hoped that the jewelry would be magnetized, but instead they were being affixed permanently to his plating. It was a nightmare.

Tradewind had already cornered him more than once, groping at his frame and making threats that if he did not cooperate he could be...replaced. The way the mech said it he had no doubt he would be offlined. It was enough to make him cry, but he refused to do so in front of Mimic, who was, even now, flouncing about the room demanding that the attendants hurry.

“Stop looking as if it is the end of the world,” Mimic snapped. “You should be pleased we found you such a good bondmate. It is not as if you will want for anything, all you have to do is produce an heir.”

Prism vented softly, “Of course, carrier, I am sorry.” He locked his joints, ignoring the ticking feel of brushes across his plating as the attendants began to paint the traditional glyphs of joining across his doorwings. “You are right, i should be happy. I have always wanted sparklings.”

Mimic’s optics narrowed, “You will do as Tradewind asks you to. I do not want him sending you back to us in disgrace. I am not even sure we would take you back. Perhaps we would throw you out on the street. It is only what you would deserve.”

“Don’t be like that, carrier, you know I would---I would not dishonour our family. I don’t know why you are acting like this. Don’t you love me? I know I remind you of-of Bluestreak, but it is---”

“You will not bring that up,” Mimic snapped shrilly. “I wish I had never carried you, you have never been anything but a disappointment. You act like a horribly willful child, even after you have been given everything. We let you have your freedom, and yet you still want more. You wonder why I am hard on you? It is because you are a bad sparkling, you have always been,” Mimic hissed.

Prism trembled, his joints unlocking despite himself. “How could you say that?”

“I am just glad to have you taken off of our servos to do something useful for once.”

Prism ducked his head, not bothering to stop the cleansing fluid from pooling in his optics and trickling down his cheekplates. “I’m sorry, carrier. I don’t mean to be so bad. I really don’t.”

“Don’t cry for him, he’s not worth it,” the voice came from the entryway, and the golden mech standing there with a blaster in hand, a blue mech behind him carried one as well, pointing it at Mimic.

“I suggest you stay where you are,” the blue mech said, his voice cultured, and clearly one of the noble caste. His optics settled on Mimic.

“What are you doing here?” Mimic growled, optics fixed on the weapons.

“I’ve come to get my apprentice,” Sunstreaker said, sweeping further into the room, he grabbed Prism, throwing him over his shoulder, making the small mech squeak.

“You can’t do this,” Mimic yelled, running towards them until Mirage shoved a blaster in his face.

“Yes, we can. Prowl knows we are here, and he wants to have a chat with you. If I were you I would go see him...before he comes to see you,” Mirage said, completely unruffled.

Mimic sputtered, “Lies. Put my creation down.”

“No, he is coming with me,” Sunstreaker growled, backing away through the doorway.

Prism wiggled in his grasp, “Where are you taking me?”

“We’ll talk about it when we get out of here,” Sunstreaker said, blaster still pointed at Mimic.

Mimic stared in shock as they whisked Prism away, going through the tunnels the way they had come. They were quiet as they walked through the dark, Prism a warm, bouncing presence on Sunstreaker’s shoulder. It was distracting for Sunstreaker. He tried to ignore it, but he still found himself nuzzling into the warm plating, a rumbling purr escaping his vocalizer.

Mirage stopped, hearing the sound, “Sunstreaker, no. Don’t even think about it. Prowl would be annoyed if you marked him up like this.”

Sunstreaker huffed, “But he smells so good.”

Prism wiggled again, squeaking, “Are you going to ravage me? Because that was what Tradewind said he was going to do to me.”

Mirage made a huffing sound, pulling Prism off of Sunstreaker’s reluctant form. He pulled Prism over to the other side of him, “He wants to my dear mech, but not in the way you are thinking.”

Prism blinked at them both, optics finally going wide. “Oh...oh...I see....you are like Prowl aren’t you? My sire explained it to me, he said it was a-a secret.”

“We BOTH are like Prowl,” Mirage said calmly, “He apparently didn’t feed before we left.”

Sunstreaker gave them both a sullen look, “We need to be going, I’m not going to attack him, I have more control than that. And I’m not like Prowl, he is an aft.”

Mirage shook his head, pushing Prism in front of him so he was between the small mech and Sunstreaker, “Could have fooled me.”

“Is-is Prowl going to eat me then?” Prism asked, a tremor in his voice.

“No, darling, you are going to be Sunstreaker’s apprentice, if you want to,” Mirage said, laughing. “From what I heard though anything would be better than bonding with that aft.”

“Apprentice and intended...perhaps. If we suit each other,” Sunstreaker said from behind, his tone hopeful.

“I’m so confused. Intended...meal? Or-or do-do you mean intended bondmate? I didn’t e-even know you liked me like that,” Prism said, his cheekplates flushing hot.

“Of course I like you like that,” Sunstreaker said, his cheekplates flushing as bright as Prism’s. “Sideswipe will need to meet you. If he is agreeable, and I think he will be, then yes I would like to bond with you.”

Mirage rolled his optics, “You do realize, Prism, you are all he has talked about since he met you? If it isn’t how talented you are, then it it how beautiful you are, and how much he wants to paint you. I’m sure Sides has heard it just as much.”

“Mirage,” Sunstreaker huffed behind them.

“Well, he should hear it. Obviously you have told him nothing, and he doesn’t know how much you have been mooning about over him. And I’m sure you haven’t told him that you and Sideswipe are a package deal. They can’t bond separately. They’ve never been able to settle on one mech together, then again Sunstreaker has never been serious about anyone before now.”

“MIRAGE!” Sunstreaker said, armor puffing up.

“Really?” Prism asked, all wide-opticed. “I-oh-I...you really like me that way?”

“Of course he does,” Mirage said, propelling Prism down the hall, until they finally came out into the citadel. The hall was brightly lit compared to the dim tunnels. The sudden influx of light made Prism cringe slightly. “It is not, however, a conversation for the hallway, or one to have while Prowl is waiting to meet with us.”

Prism shrank on himself, “We have to meet with him?”

“He wants reassurances that this is what you want,” Mirage said, as he pulled Prism down the hall towards Prowl’s private rooms.

“Wh-why would he care if this is what I want?” Prism asked, looking more confused by the moment.

“He does, trust me,” Mirage said, pushing him through a doorway.

Sunstreaker made a snorting noise behind them, following closely as they entered room. There were four Praxians, not the two that they had been expecting. Prism watched in confusion as Mirage dropped his hand and rushed to a blue and red Praxian, kissing him soundly.

Sunstreaker chuckled at his side, leaning in, “That is Smokescreen. They are very much in love. Beautiful, isn’t it.”

“Yes, it is,” Prism agreed with wide optics as Sunstreaker pushed him towards the three remaining Praxians.

“Prism!” the grey Praxian rushed towards him, enveloping him in a hug, “Oh goodness you are beautiful, and your finish, it’s so unique. Oh, Primus, and you are so small. I wasn’t expecting that at all. You will have to meet Red, he will love you. I know he will, and we will all be great friends, I can tell we will. It’s so good to meet you at last. I wish that you could have visited me before, but it’s not usually done.”

“Bluestreak, don’t scare him away,” Prowl said chuckling.

“You have grown into a beautiful mech,” Prowl said, moving close. His optics flicked to Sunstreaker, and then back to his descendent. “Do you really want to go with Sunstreaker? You always have a place here.” He touched the small mech’s cheek. “You do understand that it was never our intention to put you in such a union as your carrier setup.”

Prism shivered, not knowing what to believe. He reached out, touching Bluestreak’s cheekplating, “Brother, I always hoped to meet you.”

Bluestreak smiled, pulling his brother into a hug, “I hope we can become great friends.”

“I hope so as well,” Prism said shyly.

Bluestreak smiled, stepping away, “I believe Barricade wanted to meet you as well.”

A black Praxian stepped forth, he was slightly bigger than the others, and his chromatophores nearly monochromatic. Somehow he was far more intimidating than Prowl. “You are the one that made the sculpture of Crystalwave, aren’t you?”

“I--I--yes, I am,” Prism said, trying not to shake where he stood.

The Praxian smiled, “You captured him perfectly. Thank you. I had always wanted a statue of him commissioned, but this is far better than I imagined, it is based off of one of the paintings I had commissioned of him...isn’t it? I had forgotten it was hanging in Lighthold. You look very much like Cadance. I am not sure if you are aware of your family history. He was Coda’s brother, Prowl’s mate. They were both good mechs, and I cannot say that I have ever seen plating like his until now. You are beautiful.”

“Oh-Oh-thank you,” Prism sputtered, his wings fluttered in distress. He was not used to this kind of attention and was not even sure he liked it. His cheekplates felt as though they were burning.

Prowl watched the exchange, “As wonderful as all that is, I must know what your decision is regarding your engagement. Do you want to bond with Tradewind? Would you rather become Sunstreaker’s apprentice? Or something else entirely? You may stay here if you would like. I am sure Bluestreak would like you near.”

“Tradewind? What? No. I-I-I don’t want anything to do with that monster. He s-said he would keep breeding me until my spark gave out, that it was only what I deserved. He said he would beat me if I fell out of line,” Prism whimpered at the thought of going back to the mech. “No. I would never go back to him.”

Prowl nodded, a look of anger creeping onto his face. His optics slowly changing from amber to red. “I see. He will be...dealt with then. And your choice?”

“I...I would like to g-go with Sunstreaker, if that is okay. I-it is what I want,” Prism said, ducking his head and catching Sunstreaker’s optics. “I really do.”

“It is settled then, a long engagement then, and he can court you---properly, as befits your station,” Prowl said, smiling at Prism.

Prism’s optics widened, he had not imagined such a thing would be possible, “Thank you so much, my lord.”

“There is no need to thank me, youngling. I should have been paying more attention to what you're creators were doing. None of this should ever have happened. I will fix this though. I will have a...chat with them.”

“Please don’t hurt them. Please. My sire was always a good mech. And carrier...he...has never been right since Bluestreak left. He can’t help it,” Prism said, shrinking in on himself.

“There is no excuse, my child. None at all,” Prowl said patiently. “Perhaps you should take him home now, Sunstreaker. Get him settled in and I will speak with him again in a few sols.”

Sunstreaker nodded, “I want to take him to the medbay first...if possible. To have the betrothal jewelery removed.”

Prowl frowned, “It’s not magnetized?”

“No, no it’s not,” Sunstreaker said, disgust in his tone.

A whimper escaped Prism, “I didn’t want them to do that, but they wouldn't listen to me.”

“Knock out will fix it, don’t worry,” Sunstreaker said, steering him towards the door. It was impossible to miss the angry look on Prowl’s face.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

“Hey, Knock Out? I need your help with something,” Sunstreaker said as he came through the door with Prism, the smaller bot nearly clinging to him in distress.

Knock Out turned, and let out a little shriek, “Primus, what did you do to your plating? That is the---”

“Hey, be nice. It wasn’t his choice, we just need it removed. And I was hoping he would be able to meet Red as well,” Sunstreaker added, looking suddenly sheepish.

Knock Out raised a browplate, and patted the medical berth. “Hop up and lets get this taken care of. I can’t hardly look at those clashing colors.”

Prism climbed up, his optics fixed on the red mech as he examined how the gems were affixed. “Well, they are welded in place. Luckily you have healthy plating. The patch should heal clean, once I remove them, you shouldn’t have any scarring. I will have to put you under though, it will be rather painful otherwise.”

Prism’s optics widened, “Anything to get them off. I don’t even care. I just want them gone.”

Sunstreaker nodded, “Save the scrap, I’ll trade it off for something more...appropriate. They are hideous, but they are also high quality. Tradewind should have to pay for something you will like.”

Prism lay back, and looked up at the ceiling. “If you say so, Sunstreaker.” His cheekplates heated up all over again. “I don’t need anything, really. Being your apprentice...and maybe more eventually is more than enough.”

“You deserve the best,” Sunstreaker murmured, standing beside him until Knock Out put him into stasis. He stood there looking down at the young mech, trying to sort of his feeling for several kliks. He had never been good at emotions, not like Sideswipe, and he didn’t know if the feeling in his spark was love or something else entirely. All he knew was he would give up just about anything to make this mech happy.

Knock Out watched him, shaking his helm. “Go see your brother, I’m sure he will be happy to see you. It’s going to take a while for me to sort this mess out.”

“Thank you,” Sunstreaker nodded, “I really do appreciate it.” He made his way to the suite that Red Alert lived in with Knock Out and Breakdown. Surprisingly the common room was deserted. He wandered towards the berthrooms, noting the clanking noise that echoed through the hall. He vented softly, chuckling as he opened Red’s door and watched the scene before him.

Red Alert threw his head back, moaning as he rode Inferno’s spike. Sunstreaker’s engines revved loudly, startling Red. The red mech just smiled back at him coyly, never losing rhythm.

“Can I join in?” Sunstreaker asked, already crossing the room. He took in Inferno’s state, the way the mech was cuffed to the berth and nearly insensate.

“Always,” Red Alert panted.

Sunstreaker laughed as he moved behind Red Alert, hitching up Inferno’s legs. “Frag you are both beautiful.” He wasted little time opening his own panel and pushing into the clenching, wet valve. Inferno cried out beneath them, optics flying open as Sunstreaker began to lazily thrust inside him.

Red Alert leaned back, letting his helm rest on Sunstreaker’s chest, their rhythm syncing. “Please,” he whimpered, tilting his head to the side and offering up his neck cording.

“So giving,” Sunstreaker murmured, sinking his fangs into Red’s energon line, and pulling his brother close.

Inferno’s charge rose, crackling across his plating. He let out a high pitched keen, bucking up into Red Alert, transfluid spurting out and hitting the top of Red Alert’s valve, finally pushing the smaller mech over the edge. He cried out, falling back against Sunstreaker, who continued to pump into Inferno, until the mech’s valve clenched tightly around his spike, milking it of every last bit of transfluid. The fluid tweaked already sensitive nodes setting Inferno into a second overload. he whimpered and cried, finally falling limp against the berth, completely off-lined.

Sunstreaker purred, lapping at the closing wound on Red Alert’s neck. “Perfect.”

They finally fell together, curling up beside Inferno. The large mech did not stir, for some time. His optics gradually came online, and a smile inched onto his faceplates. “Frag, that was amazing,” Inferno purred.

“It was,” Red agreed, leveling is brother with a suspicious look. “Why are you here anyway? You never drop by.”

“I guess I don’t. There is---um---well---there is someone I want you to meet,” Sunstreaker finally spat out.

“Oh, really?” Red Alert smiled, “You found someone?”

“Sorta. I...took an apprentice.”

“But you want him to be more than that, don’t you?” Red Alert chuckled, “I can’t say I’ve ever seen you blush.” He didn’t have to touch the golden mech’s cheekplates to know they were burning.

“Yeah, well, I think you would like him. I really do. He’s amazing, and wonderful. He’s so talented and sweet. He’s just...I don’t even know. I like him a lot. He just has this graceful way of moving---frack, I sound worse than Bluestreak,” Sunstreaker finally paused, optics going wide.

“You have it bad, I can tell,” Red Alert said, curling closer.

“Yeah, I guess I might. He’s from a noble family though, so I’m not sure how it would even work. He expected to be bonded off to a single mech, and I’m not sure if he would understand this, or even likes Sides. I don’t know. it’s complicated.”

“Sounds like it,” Red said, “That doesn’t mean you can’t make it work.”

Sunstreaker made a whining noise, “I just...want to paint him, all the time. He’s...just so...delicious looking, and he makes even the most mundane things look graceful. I want to bend him over something and just frag him until he is screaming with pleasure...and paint him like that too. Primus, and that is the problem. He’s one of Prowl’s. He’s also completely innocent.”

“Have you asked Prowl permission?” Red asked.

“Yes. Do you think I would be here otherwise?” Sunstreaker snorted.

“Then how is any of that a problem?” Inferno asked, chiming in. “I mean, if Prowl is cool with it, and he likes you back...I don’t see what the issue is.”

“He is pure, and completely innocent. In the noblemech sense of pure. His seals are intact, and I’m pretty sure he is completely clueless about what interfacing really involves. He was raised to be bonded to another noble, would have given his seals to that noble, and that is not what I can give him. Not in the least. Sides and I are a package deal he knows that at least, but I’m not sure how to explain any of this in a way he would understand or accept.”

Red Alert nodded, “Well, one thing at a time then.” He sat up, kissed his brother on the cheek. “Let’s get cleaned up and then you will take us to meet him.” Red Alert smiled, heading towards the washrack.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Prism moaned, and looked around the room groggily. Whatever medicine Knock Out had put into his lines left him feeling floaty and dizzy. His plating throbbed despite the meds, hurting in a way he had never experienced before. He sat up, noting the tubing going into his lines with alarm. The gems were gone, medical patches in their place. He looked horrible, but it was still as though a great weight had been lifted from his spark. He felt free. He couldn't help but smile.

“Up already?” Knock Out asked, checking the monitors on the berth. “How are you feeling?”

“Completely wretched,” Prism said cheerfully.

Knock Out nodded, “To be expected. The nanite paste already dissolved into your plating, so you should look as good as new in a matter of sols, a decacycle at most.”

“I’d be happy even if I had to bear the scars the rest of my life,” Prism beamed.

Knock Out blinked at him, “No...I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t. You are much too beautiful to think that. I’m sure Sunstreaker would appreciate the change anyway. He talked about taking you out to his favourite spa, and getting you some more...appropriate adornments.” Knock Out smiled at the way the little mech lit up at the mention of Sunstreaker’s name.

“He did? Truly?”

“I did,” Sunstreaker said, coming through the door, Red Alert and Inferno filing in after. “I have two people I would like you to meet. Red Alert, my brother, and Inferno. This is Prism,” he said, unable to keep the silly grin off of his normally serious faceplates.

Prism ducked his head, flushing. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Red Alert crossed the space between them, taking Prism’s hands in his own, “Oh, I do hope we can become good friends.”

Prism smiled shyly, giving Red Alert’s hands a little squeeze, “I would like that a lot. I’ve never really had any...friends before. Will you visit us at the gallery then? Prowl said I would be living there with Sunstreaker. He is supposed to be courting me.”

“So I heard,” Red Alert said, “Him and Sideswipe. Congratulations, I am sure the courtship will end in a happy bonding.” He leaned forward hugging a surprised Prism tightly. “Welcome to the family.” He leaned away, and smiled.

“Oh, thank you,” Prism said, flushing again, and ducking his head. “I never thought I would be courted by twins. It’s quite a surprise. I can’t say it was something that was ever covered in my comportment classes, but I’m sure I will learn what to do. I know how to run a household. You don’t have to worry about that. I will be a good housemech.”

Sunstreaker made a coughing noise behind them both, looking completely flustered. “We don’t really have a household so to speak Prism. It will just be me, you and Sideswipe. We don’t have any servants.”

“Well, I am sure I will manage. I was taught housekeeping as well. It was...the only reason Mimic allowed me to attend the academy. If I took comportment classes as well. I promise I will be useful.”

Sunstreaker shifted uneasily behind Red Alert. It made him hate Mimic all the more. “Sweetling, you don’t have to do anything like that. Just create art and be happy. That is all I want.”

Prism’s lower lip plates quivered, “Really? No one has ever said that to me.”

Sunstreaker watched the mech, his spark breaking. “Yes, really. More than anything.” He crossed the distance between them, his optics on Prism as Red Alert moved out of the way. “I want to keep you safe and happy. I won’t let anything like this happen to you again, ever. Not if I can help it anyway.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to Prism’s helm in a chaste kiss.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Prism craned his neck, looking about the darkened street. There were so many lights. So many businesses still open. He was not allowed out often, never without a chaperone, and certainly never this late. He clung to Sunstreaker’s side, completely overwhelmed. “W-where are we going?”

“We are going to Illusions. It’s the best spa in Praxus. I think you need some pampering,” Sunstreaker said, winking at the smaller mech that strode beside him. He put his arm around Prism, guiding him into the shop. It was an innocuous looking place. The same slate grey as the shops beside it. No display windows, only a little sign about the door.

“Really?” Prism craned his neck, looking at it, puzzled. It was a completely different story once they stepped inside. The receptionist smiled at them, “Sunstreaker, you are a bit early. You have a new guest I take it?”

“This is Prism.”

The femme smiled, “Oh, he’s lovely.”

Prism watched her with wide optics. He had not had too much experience with femmes, at least not nice ones in any case.

“I’m Quicksilver. I promise I won’t bite, unless you want me to,” her tone was hopeful, despite the rumble that started from Sunstreaker’s chassis.

“Even if he wants you to. No. Just no.”

The femme huffed and went through the door behind her, “Fine, I will go check to see if Technicolor is ready for you.”

Prism took a step closer to Sunstreaker, reaching for his hand. He was not sure about this place at all. “What are all of the color strips on the wall?” he finally asked when the femme was gone.

“Color samples for chromites. Some mechs do not stick with their natural coloration. They change themselves,” Sunstreaker said patiently. “Not everyone is as blessed as you were.”

Prism shrinked into himself at Sunstreaker’s comment. He didn’t see what the fuss was.

“He is ready, come on back,” Quicksilver said, as she came back through the doorway, and stepped to the side, inviting them inside. “He wants you to soak in the the solvent pool first,” she said leading them into another room, one filled with steam.

“Oh, this is nothing like the solvent pool at home,” Prism said, clinging to Sunstreak as the crossed the threshold.

“No, I don’t imagine that it is,” Quicksilver said, stepping aside. “Just relax and he will be in here in a click to discuss your treatment.”

Sunstreaker stepped into the solvents, taking the steps down into the pool slowly, pulling Prism with him. “Relax,” he ordered, as he sunk down into the warm solvents. Steam wafted around them.

Prism looked around the room, unable not to gawk. It was not like anyplace he had been to before, and certainly not what he had expected from the plain exterior. The solvent pool was titled, a mosaic of bright geometric shapes. It was optic catching, something that Prism could have studied for hours if he was no so distracted by Sunstreaker’s hands on his plating.

The solvents were warm, leaving him feeling drowsy. He lost track of the time that they sat there, soaking, Sunstreaker holding him in his arms. The golden mech grabbed a cloth and carefully cleaned Prism’s plating. His fingers dipped into spaces between Prism’s plating, touching protoform and wires, making the little mech squirm and cry out. Prism opened his mouth to protest. It was wholly inappropriate for Sunstreaker to touch him this way before they were bonded, he knew that much. He could not get the words out, though, and merely leaned into the touch. Sunstreaker’s chassis purred happily beneath his own, a warm presence behind him. It should have frightened him, but Sunstreaker’s touch felt nothing at all like Tradewinds. It left his engine revving. Heat pulled between his legs, underneath his panel. He didn’t entirely understand that, and now clearly was not the time to ask.

Prism was startled out of his stupor by a shadow falling over him. “Oh, what a treat. And that plating, beautiful. Does he taste as sweet as he looks?”

Sunstreaker growled, “I can guarantee you will never find out, Technicolor.”

The brightly colored mech merely smiled, fangs peeking out from his lipplates. Prism had never seen such a flamboyantly colored painting on a mech. He was blue and yellow, with red bits of trim all buffed to a mirror-like shine. Far shinier than even Sunstreaker. It was also clear the mech was like Prowl, which was...alarming.

Prism flattened himself against Sunstreaker, not entirely convinced that this Technicolor wouldn’t take a bite if he had the opportunity. He had faith that Sunstreaker would protect him, but there was still the niggling worry that the other vampire would not take no for an answer.

The growling in Sunstreaker’s check grew in volume. “Stop. You are scaring him, this is not what we came here for.”

Technicolor pouted visibly, “But he’s so adorable, can’t you share just this once?” He huffed when he saw the look on Sunstreaker’s faceplates. “Fine, what exactly is it that you want?” He leaned in looking more closely at Prism, who shrank away. “Is he a gift to Lord Prowl? I know he has a weakness for that frame type. Not that I blame him.”

Sunstreaker glared, “The opposite, actually. He is a gift from Prowl. Keep that in processor. I can’t imagine he would appreciate you despoiling his gift.”

Technicolor rolled his optics, “Fine, so what am I doing?”

“Everything. Bluffing, polish, nanite enhancement, full body waxing and facial painting. Everything short of a protoform massage,” Sunstreaker said in a warning tone.

“You don’t trust me to do that, I take it?” Technicolor said pretending to be hurt.

“I trust you, as far as I can throw you, my friend.”

Prism listened to the exchange, optics wide. “I’m a gift?” He finally asked, squirming against Sunstreaker and looking faintly uncomfortable.

Sunstreaker looked down at him, “Knowing you...yes. Possibly one of the greatest gifts I never expected.”

Prism’s lips quirked up, and ducked his head coyly, “I could say the same about you.”

Sunstreaker’s optics took on a faint red glow before he finally pulled them both out of the solvent pool, “You don’t know how tempting you are, do you?”

Prism blinked at him, “You mean you want to nibble on me?”

“Among other things,” Sunstreaker laughed, propelling the smaller bot after Technicolor as they left the room.

“You aren’t going to leave me, are you?” Prism asked, looking uneasy as they finally ended up in a small room with a single berth on it.

“No, I’ll stay with you and explain what they are doing, don’t worry,” Sunstreaker’s optics fliched to Technicolor, who was ignoring them, and pulling equipment out of a cabinet and placing them on a rolling cart.

“Climb up on the berth,” Technicolor motioned at Prism, looking him up and down, “We are going to start with a nanite infusion. We use a gel that my assistant Limelight makes, it takes a few breams for it to absorb into your plating, so try not to wiggle about too much.” His lips curled into a smirk, as he watched Prism climb up onto the berth and sprawl out.

Sunstreaker kept a watchful optic on the mech, it was clear to Prism that he really did not trust him to keep it professional. Moments later a second mech came into the room, his plating green and yellow. “Limelight, start applying the gel,” Technicolor said, not looking up as he went back to the cabinet and began pulling still more supplies.

Limelight smiled at Sunstreaker, nodding to him as he began to work the gel into Prism’s plating. The little mech sighed loudly, surprise written all over his face. He had not expected it to feel good. The only experience he had with such things was his attendants before the betrothal, and they had been rough with him, jerking him this way and that as if he was not a living mech at all, but just another piece of furniture to clean before the guests arrived.

A moan escaped Prism’s lips, immediately followed by hot energon rushing to his cheekplates, as he immediately grew flustered with his response. He knew that his carrier would have had something to say about it if he had been there.

“You have such beautiful plating,” Limelight murmured, “I bet everyone is envious of you, but they will be even more so when you are done. The nanites will enrich your normal coloration, It will look wonderful. I’m sure Sunstreaker will agree.”

The golden mech rumbled, “How could I not?”

Limelight laughed, as he finished putting on the gel, “Now sit there for a breem. We have to wait until it dries before we do the other side.

Technicolor crossed the room, bringing about container of the nanite gel, “Let me know when you are done, I have the buffer primed.”

Limelight nodded, “I’m nearly done, I’ll start mixing up the face paints while you do that. I am thinking the minimal amount in this case. Just a hint to accent.”

Technicolor nodded, “ You read my mind.”

Prism watched them go through the motions, finishing the nanite treatment, he was buffed, which brought out more little sounds, leaving his cheeks hot with embarrassment. The wax and clear coat that followed were equally pleasant. Far more so than he imagined it would be, and by the time they were done with him he sported a sheen to equal Sunstreaker’s own. It was a relief when Technicolor left to deal with some other client, leaving Limelight to finish the work.

He opticed Limelight as the mech finally came back bearing the supposed facepaints.

Limelight laughed when he saw the expression on Prism’s faceplates. “I am not going to make you look bad, silly mech,” he said as he picked up a brush and set to work. “The key is to make it look as though you have no face paints at all. Trust me.”

Prism nodded, optics wide. “I do.” The mech at least seemed to know what he was doing, and seemed far less high-strung than Technicolor.

Limlight smiled, “Good. I am glad that you do. Now, let us get started, shall we?”

Prism could not help but smile back. “Yes, please.”

“You are so very lucky, such a natural beauty,” the bot bummed as he applied the paints. “Or perhaps I should say that Sunstreaker is lucky.”

Heat creeped up Prism’s faceplates. “I am. I m-mean, yeah I’m lucky about Sunstreaker.”

“Oh, now, no blushing. The paints will not cure properly. Vent dear,” Limelight laughed, pulling his brush away, and waiting until Prism had control of himself.

“Sorry,” Prism said, still sounding flustered. “I really do care for him though.”

“I can tell, and it’s equally clear that he is just as besotted with you,” Limelight said kindly. “As I said, you are very fortunate. Are you going to bond...I don’t mean to pry, but I have never seen Sunstreaker with any other mech but Sideswipe, or Red Alert.”

“We are courting. I do hope that it all works out,” Prism said shyly. “I really do.”

“I cannot imagine why it would not,” The green mech said stepping away and admiring his work.

Prism ducked his head, unwilling to dump all of his insecurities on this stranger. For the spark of him he still could not understand why Sunstreaker had taken an interest in him, and now he would have to meet Sideswipe and cajole the mech to his side. He was not sure he was up to such a task.

“It will,” Sunstreaker said as he crossed the room where he had been silently listening to the hushed exchange. “Sides will adore you, and we will bond. I know that is what will happen,” he said taking the brush from Limelight. He touched up the green mech’s work, looking at it critically. He worked in silence until he was pleased with the way it looked. “Perfect. You look stunning.”

“I do?” Prism asked, optics fixed on Sunstreaker’s faceplates.

“Yes, the most beautiful mech I have ever seen,” Sunstreaker murmured, leaning in he pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss.

Limelight shook his helm, “Dear, Primus.”

Sunstreaker pulled away, a smile on his faceplate. “That bad?”

Limelight looked at him with a critical optic, “I have never seen you so...happy.”

Sunstreaker laughed, pulling Prism up from his seat, and twirling him about. “I have never been so happy,” the golden mech exclaimed. He pulled Prism to him, looking down at the slight mech.

Prism stood on tip-ped, kissing Sunstreaker shyly, nervous of their audience. “Neither have I,” he whispered when their lips parted. He was so very scared it would come crashing down around their audials, but he couldn't voice that. So much depended on Sideswipe, and things Prism had no control over at all. His spark spun fast in his chest, his circuits heating before Sunstreaker stepped away.

“Thank you Limelight,” Sunstreaker finally said, passing a credit stick to the green mech.

“No, thank you,” Limelight said, subscapcing it without checking the amount. He watched the two mechs leave a slight smile on his faceplates.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

The twinges across the bond were more difficult to ignore. Even though it was only partially opened he could feel Sunstreaker’s joy, and yet his twin held back the reason from him. It made Sideswipe suspicious. It also made him try to conclude his business far faster than he had planned. He wondered if it was about the contracts that Sunstreaker had him draw up for the artist he had still not met. Sunstreaker was not one to take that kind of interest in their business. He rarely paid attention to any of the other artists work in the gallery, but this was somehow different. He could feel it in his spark.

He did not expect to see Sunstreaker working in his studio when he arrived home, and he expected the diminutive mech even less. He stood in the doorway, watching them for several kliks before him moved into the room, grabbing their attention. “Sunny? What is going on?”

“Sunstreaker. You know I hate being called that. I have a couple new commissions, just getting some preliminary work out of the way. It’s good to see you back, Sideswipe,” Sunstreaker said, entirely avoiding the obvious question.

“Yeah, I can see that, but who is he, and why is he here? I know we talked about you taking students, but you said you weren’t really interested in that.”

Sunstreaker opened his mouth, and then shut it with a snap, “This is Prism. He is not...exactly a student.”

Sideswipe’s optics slid from Sunstreaker to the dainty little mech and back, he was easy enough on the optics, but his brother had never shown and real interest in any mechs but Sideswipe himself and Red Alert. “I see. Then what exactly is he? And what is he doing in our house?”

The smaller mech moved closer to Sunstreaker, his grey plating giving him more than a passing resemblance to a glitchmouse, until he moved and colour flittered across the grey. “He lives here, Sideswipe. Prowl allowed me to make him my apprentice, and well we might be betrothed as well.”

“What? You are joking, right, haha, funny. I thought I was the one that pulled the pranks, Sunny.”

Sunstreaker scowled at him, “It’s not a prank. I’m serious.”

“What the slag? I was only gone for three decacycles, what were you thinking? You don’t even know this mech?” Sideswipe snapped, scowling at the mech that obviously had seduced his brother.

“We are getting to know one another. We are courting. It isn’t as if we are bonded already. I wanted him to meet you. I want us to be a trine, but if that is not possible. Well...I will still court him even if we cannot spark bond. Lots of mechs have good bonds and never do that.”

Sideswipe raised a browplate, “Yeah, and what would Perceptor think of that little bit of wisdom?”

“We aren’t noble born, no matter what he might think,” Sunstreaker snapped, moving towards his brother in a threatening manner.

“Please stop it, don’t fight. Please, Sunny. I don’t want to come between the two of you. I-I can go to stay with my brother. It’s fine, really,” Prism said, placing himself between the two brothers before a real fight broke out.

“No, you can’t. Prowl would never let you go,” Sunstreaker exclaimed as the same time that Sideswipe bit out, “You fracking let him call you Sunny, What the pit?”

“Wait, what does any of this have to with Prowl, and who the frag is his brother?” Sideswipe added, looking more annoyed by the klik.

“Bluestreak,” Sunstreaker and Prism added at the same time, both looking sheepish at the look Sideswipe shot them.

“Please tell me you are joking? You are just lovestruck cause he looks like Bluestreak. That is it, isn’t it,” the red twin added.

“Frag no, I didn’t even know they were related when I met him. I didn’t even find out until I went to Mirage for help because his creators tried to bond him off to this aft of a noblemech,” Sunstreaker growled, “We rescued him, Prowl agreed to let me court him, and I am going to.”

“You are joking, right? Please tell me this is one big joke. What exactly did you rescue him from? A life of comfort with a jerk for a bonded? That is the norm for the nobility, Sunny. Look at what Bluestreak is saddled with,” Sideswipe said, his voice turning snide.

“No, actually he saved me from being reprogrammed,” Prism whimpered moving closer to Sunstreaker. “He had one waiting for me after the ceremony. W-we didn’t find out about it until later, but h-h-he was going to hurt me, and I was not the first. He had already had several bondings. The other mechs didn’t live past a vorn with him. So, really he saved my life.”

Sunstreaker pulled Prism into his arms, running a hand soothingly over his back-plating. “You are safe now,” he murmured, watching his brother over Prism’s shoulder. “You know I will keep you safe.”

“I know,” Prism whimpered, hiding his face against Sunstreaker’s plating.

Sideswipe shook his helm as he watched, “Is that how it is?”

“It is. He is what I want. Everything that I want. Charming, beautiful, and sweet,” Sunstreaker purred.

“Sunny,” Prism said, face still hidden, but there was a note of exasperation there.

“And he is smart. Smart enough to help you with the business,” Sunstreaker added.

Sideswipe rolled his optics at the lovestruck tone in Sunstreaker’s voice, “Fine, if that is what you want.” It hurt to see Sunstreaker like this, but at the same time he desperately wanted his twin to be happy.

“Just give him a chance, please,” Sunstreaker said quietly, as close to pleading as he ever came.

Sideswipe looked between them and nodded, “Fine, but I’m not making any promises.”

“It’s too early for that, anyway. I would like some time for us to get to know one another,” Prism said, optics wide.

Sideswipe was struck by how much the mech looked like Bluestreak, and how he looked totally different. “Fine,” he said again, shrugging. We’ll see how it goes then.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Red Alert lounged against Inferno’s chestplates. He had missed the mech more than he could ever express. Streetwise was just as hard of a taskmaster as Knock Out was. Possibly more so. “I miss you when you are gone,” he sighed, resting his helm against Inferno's chest plating. The large mech’s spark beat steadily beneath his plating, and his field mingled with Red’s own. It hurt everytime Inferno left, but he kept his silence, knowing it was selfish to try to keep him there. Inferno needed to be useful, and Red Alert had his own studies to attend to.

“I miss you too, Red. Ya know that,” Inferno ran his hand along Red Alert’s spinal array. “Maybe I won’t have to leave your side much longer. Streetwise said my training is nearly over and I will be in the regular rotation soon. And...I know we’ve talked about bonding...I-I just want you to know I am serious about it. I know it’s old fashioned, but I saved up and bought a bonding gem for you. I hope you will accept it when you are ready.”

Red Alert wiggled about until they were face to face, his optics wide. “You know I will the minute my spark is mature.” He shivered, and leaned in, pressed their lip-plates together in a chaste kiss. “It is what I’ve always wanted,” he added shyly. He nuzzled Inferno’s neck cording, nipping at the malleable metal.

“I-I had always hoped so,” Inferno purred. “I thought you did. I just---I just don’t want you to feel obligated to--to bond. I know you have other mechs that are interested in you---and I would---”

“Hush. There is no one that could ever compare to you,” Red Alert said, nipping at him hard enough to leave a dent. “You are mine, and I am yours. That is the way it is supposed to be.”

“Yes,” Inferno agreed. He nuzzled Red Alert’s sensory horns, making the little mech on top of him purr loudly and squirm. Pleasure zipped through his lines, dancing through his frame until a moan escaped his throat. “I love you Red.”

Red Alert could only whimper as Inferno used his denta on the sensitive sensory horns before him. Nibbling and sucking until Red was a limp, mewling weight on top of him. “Oh...’ferno,” Red whispered, “I need you.”

“I need you, too. Always,” Inferno whispered back, nuzzling a sensor horn until Red Alert’s vocalizer spat static. The little red mech panted, falling strutlessly against Inferno’s chassis.

“As soon----oh dear Primus I wish I could bond with you now,” Red squirmed, “Knock Out would have turbofox kits if we do it before my spark matures.” He knew it could even cause irreparable damage. His adoptive parents had made sure to drill that into his helm. “Soon it will be safe, and...I...I have something for you,” he added, his tone turning shy once more.

Inferno chuckled, “Oh, and what did you get me?”

Red Alert sat up and fished a little box out of his subspace, “i’ve had it for awhile...I just...It never seemed the right time.”

Inferno raised a browplate, and opened the box slowly, and finally pulled out a locket on a large chain. He fumbled around for a moment, trying to open the clasp and when he did he invented slowly. “Oh, Red,” he murmured, smiling at the image of red inside the locket. The image capture was perfect.

“Breakdown helped me make it. This way...I will always be with you.”

“Oh...Red. This.” He didn’t have the words for it. He pulled the little mech against him kissing him soundly.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Sideswipe had not known what to expect from Prism, but it was not for him to work down in the gallery along his side. He would spend the mornings working up in the gallery alongside Sunstreaker. Oddly it seemed to make his brother more efficient. He turned out far more paintings, enough that they had some tucked away in storage to sell at a later date. Sideswipe did not comment on the grey mech that now seemed to pop up in the paintings as much as the red mech, most because he was not entirely sure how he felt about it, or Prism himself.

The mech in question was in the supply closet, organizing the paints, and putting away the tubs of paints that Sideswipe had brought back on his latest trip abroad. Generally it was a task that Sideswipe would have ended up doing himself. Sunstreaker would have let them sit about in the way for decacycles before ever putting forth the effort to put them in the place, if he ever did at all. It was refreshing to have someone help.

Prism peeked out, “Oh, Sideswipe, I didn't hear you come in. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine I was just getting ready to go up for midday fueling,” Sideswipe said, watching the little mech untie the apron he was wearing and put it on the hook in the storeroom. He had never seen an apron quite so small...or ruffly. It left him shaking his helm as he watched Prism put up the little sign that said they were closed for a groon.

“I’ll go up with you then. I have some treats gelling if you would like some,” Prism beamed at him.

Sideswipe found himself smiling in spite of himself, “I would.” He followed the mech up the stairwell, optics straying to Prism’s aft. His brother could pick them at least. He could admit that Prism was easy on the optics, more than easy, and he was a hard worker. Their rooms had never been so very...clean.

“Is something wrong?” Prism asked, catching Sideswipe staring. For once there were no glib words, Sideswipe opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Prism smiled demurely, “It is fine, Sideswipe, you are my intended as well, you can look all you want. You do find me appealing? Don’t you?” he asked, his voice turning shy.

If it was any other mech Sideswipe would have thought that the mech was teasing him, but he could tell it was a serious question in Prism’s case. For all of his confidence, and his abilities he was both shy and insecure. He had seen that the shyness was not an act hiding a coy noblemech. “I do.” Sideswipe finally said, shrugging. It solved nothing. He was far from ready to commit to this, or any bot. He kept telling himself that. He didn’t need anyone but Sunny and Red. He didn’t.

Prism nearly skipped to the refrigeration unit. His happiness at that little admission made Sideswipes spark hurt. What kind of life had the mech lived that such a little thing would make him so happy? “I’m glad you do. I like you as well,” Prism added as he pulled out the tray of gelled energon. It, like everything else that Prism made was a work of art. Some were sprinkled with rust, others with crystal, and they were in a myriad of colours.

Sideswipe plucked a blue treat from the plate popping it into his mouth, and nearly moaned at the burst of flavour. “These are amazing.”

Prism flushed, picking up a purple treat and ate it slowly. “Thank you. Sunny said I should start experimenting since I enjoyed making things so much. He said I was trying to make fuel art, and that was pretty ‘slagging cool’. His words, not mine. There is a crystal cake for tonight, though.”

Sideswipe looked around their living area. It was so very neat. It had never been like this before, “That sounds nice, Sunny has always liked that dessert.”

“I know. That was why I learned to make it.”

Sideswipe nodded, popping another cube of gelled energon into his mouth, and let it melt slowly as he tried to think. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have the mech around.  
“Maybe I could learn to make something you like as well,” Prism said, leaning into him, until their plating was nearly touching.

Sideswipe blinked at him, “Oh, yeah, that would be nice.”

“It would,” Prism agree, “What is your favourite thing, Sideswipe?”

Sideswipe blinked at the little mech, and debated on if his admission was worth losing his dignity. “Engeron puffs. The sweet ones with crystal dust sprinkled on the top. Perceptor used to make them for me when I was younger.” He wasn’t about to tell Prism that those treats also contained mech blood, he couldn't imagine that would go over well.

“Oh, I have never made those before. I would like to give it a try,” Prism said with another of those shy smiles. He moved across the preparation area, grabbing one of the datapads that was stacked on the counter, and flipped through it. “I think I saw a recipe for it the other sol.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Sideswipe said, watching Prism gather up the ingredients he needed.

“No, but I want to,” the little grey mech said earnestly. He picked up the pad, studying the recipe again before starting to mix the ingredients together. His browplates furrowed together in concentration, completely tuning everything (and everybot) out.

Sideswipe leaned against the counter watching the mech work. He was cute like this. Sideswipe had no problem admitting that, at least to himself. He tried so very hard it was nearly a painful thing to watch. He mixed the ingredients together, wiping a hand across his face, leaving a trail of powdered crystals.

Sideswipe lip twitched up as he tried and failed to stop himself from smiling. “You...ah...have a smudge on your cheek.”

Prism stopped stirring the batter and looked up at Sideswipe with wide optics, “I...what?”

“On your cheek. Powdered crystal.”

“Oh. OH!” Prism put the bowl down and wiped at his faceplates, only managing to smudge the powder further.

Sideswipe laughed, “Still there. Here let me help.” He grabbed one of the cloths, and crossed the room. He tilted Prism’s helm up, wiping off the powder. He leaned in, catching the bot’s lips with his own before he realized what he was doing.

There was a cough from the door, and the jumped apart as if they had been burnt, both, turning towards the sound of the noise...Sunstreaker standing in the doorway.

“Don’t stop on my account,” came the smug remark. Sunstreaker crossed the room, looking at Prism critically. “I think you missed a spot.” He leaned over, glossa flicking out across Prism’s cheek making the small, grey bot squirm and squeak.

“Sunstreaker!” Prism huffed, pulling away he picked up the mixing bowl, and used it as a shield. “I’m baking.”

“Oh, I can see that,” Sunstreaker said, optics falling on Sideswipe. He never had the spark to tell the mech that they could not gain any substance from any fuel not taken from a mech. It did not make them ill at least. Not usually.

Prism watched them both, becoming more flustered by the klik until finally the bowl slipped from his fingers falling to the floor with a crash. He looked down at the wicked crystal shards and batter that splattered across the floor numbly. His lower lip quivered for one klik before he vented heavily and bent to pick up the mess. It was a complete disaster. His optics filled with cleanser, that made his vision waver. On particularly sharp shard sliced through the living metal of his palm making him yelp as energon streamed from the wound. He looked up in time to catch the rapt attention of both vampires focused solely on him.

Prism let out a scared, little chirr as Sunstreaker pulled him, up and sitting him on the counter. He would have protested, you just weren’t supposed to sit there, ever, but then the mechs mouth was on his wound. It should have hurt, but instead of pain, pleasure shot through his circuits.

Sideswipe purred on the other side of him, pressing close and catching his lips again, smothering the moan that tried to escape his vocalizer. His hands pressing against Prism’s too warm plating.

Prism whimpered, optics brightening with charge. He had never felt anything like this, and was not entirely sure what to make of it...but it felt wonderful. He pressed into the servos touching him, squirming and wanting more even though some part of him realized they were not supposed to be doing this. Prism’s processor was completely fuzzy on why.

“Frag, you taste good. Like the most expensive of energon sweets,” Sunstreaker murmured from one side of him.

Sideswipe nuzzled into Prism’s neck cording, fangs scraping before they sank in. Prism whimpered at the sharp pain, and moaned as it faded away, replaced by pleasure. Sideswipe could feel it rippling through the other mech’s field. It was as delicious as the energon filling his mouth. He tasted as sweet as the energon treats that Sideswipe stole as a sparkling.

He took a long draught on the energon line, audials tuned to the noises coming from the little bot. Prism clung to them whimpering and moaning, his plating growing hot against Sideswipe’s. It was tempting to push the bot back on the counter and just take his innocence. Some distant part of his processor knew that was not the best of ideas. It was more and more difficult to hold himself back. He might have even followed through if Sunstreaker had not finally pulled him away.

Prism sat on the counter, looking dazed. His optics dim, and his engine roaring. It stuttered when Sunstreaker leaned forward, raking against the wound on his hand. The wound began to visibly shrink as the nanites did their job, closing within a matter of kliks. Prism watched it, wide optics finally moving from the closed wound to Sunstreaker.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen. You are far too much of a temptation, my sweet,” he moved forward, caressing Prism’s cheekplating.

Sideswipe hummed in agreement. “You taste perfect.”

Prism’s cheekplates grew hot, and he looked away, “It’s fine. I liked it. Do---do you think we could do it again?”

Sideswipe chuckled, “We will. I’m sure we will, and more.”

Prism watched him, nodding. He looked thoughtful for a moment, and reached out to touch Sunstreaker, his optics sharpening. “Have you just been humoring me? You can’t really eat the treats I’ve been making, can you?”

Sunstreaker huffed, “It made you happy to do something for me, I just didn’t...”

“It’s fine,” Prism finally said, “If---if I ate them instead would it make my energon sweeter?” his voice full of curiosity.

Sunstreaker’s lipplates twitched up, “I don’t think you could get much sweeter.”

“Oh,” Prism said, looking flustered all over again, his optics sliding to Sideswipe. “And the treats Perceptor made you?”

“Not sure you really want the answer to that,” Sideswipe said, shifting away from the small mech.

“Just tell me. I’m not fragile, and it’s not like I’m going to run off. Just tell me.”

The twins frowned at each other for a moment before Sunstreaker shook his head. “Prism.”

“Tell me,” the grey mech demanded, his tone growing firmer.

Sunstreaker frowned, “Fine, if you really must know Perceptor used mech blood instead of energon. Happy.”

Prism only nodded, “I thought so. I think I could do that.”

“We don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Sideswipe said looking uncomfortable at the turn of the conversation.

“Well, there must be an amount that is safe for a mech to lose,” Prism said truly considering it.

“None, absolutely none. If you are set on this we will procure the mech blood for you. I don’t want you weakening yourself just to make treats for us,” Sunstreaker said firmly, leaving little room for argument.

“How would you even get something like that?” Prism asked, optics wide.

“There is trade among our kind, of course. There is a few ways to get what we need. One of Prowl’s descendents runs a blood bank that supplies much of the medical community in Praxus. Prowl has a stockpile taken from volunteers, and condemned mechs. They drain the mechs before execution...it makes them more docile, so yeah we can obtain whatever we need...for a price,” Sideswipe said nodding. “It’s not a pretty truth, I know, but we all must survive.”

Prism nodded, it was not a pretty truth, but he could accept it readily enough. “It doesn’t matter, I'm just glad you are here.”

Sideswipe tilted his head to the side, doubtful despite himself. So few mechs thought that way. “You say that now. This life is not for everyone. I do think I would like you to meet the rest of our family though. Maybe it’s time for that. I’m sure Perceptor would share some of his recipes with you. You are family after all.”

“I am?” Prism asked hopefully, his optics settling on Sideswipe.

The red mech snorted, “Well you aren’t going away, that is for certain.”

“No, I’m not,” Prism agreed with a little smile.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Sometimes it was impossible for Red Alert not to mope when Inferno was gone. It was also impossible for him not to be cheered when Prism and Bluestreak would come see him and force him out of his self imposed exile. He found that he truly did like both mechs. Even at the worst of times their cheer dispositions would brighten his mood.

“You’re processor is up in the stratosphere today,” Prism laughed, leaning in to Red Alert.

“I know. I just have a lot on my processor. Ah...Inferno asked me to bond with him. I’ve always hoped we’d end up together, but it’s still a bit overwhelming.”

Prism’s optics widened, “Oh, that is wonderful. You are so lucky. He adores you, and I bet you have a beautiful bonding ceremony.”

Red Alert’s cheek plating heated up, “I’m hoping for something simple, honestly. I want my family there. I guess I would like it to be a bit traditional...in one of the temples. Maybe the small chapel here.”

Prism nodded, his own cheekplates growing hot, “I want something small too. I don’t know if the twins would like that, but I---well---after what happened with my creators I don’t want something big. It just...I want good memories, and the only thing that matters to me is that we will be joined together. “What about you, Blue?”

His brother blinked at him, “I---Prowl would never bond with me.”

Prism blinked back, “Never is a very long time. Doesn’t he love you? Hasn’t he told you he does?”

“He does, but it’s complicated, and...I’m sure he will tire of me eventually. Maybe not for a while, but eventually,” the hurt was clear across Bluestreak’s faceplates.

“Maybe you will be different. Maybe he will bond with you,” Prism said. He had seen them together, seen how possessive Prowl was with his brother. Somehow he did not think Bluestreak saw things how they really were. “If you were bonding what would you want?”

Bluestreak trembled, “A big bonding ceremony so everyone would know he chose me. It will never happen though. I’m just...not good enough to claim that.”

“Oh, Blue. You are. And I think you are wrong,” Prism said, reaching out and holding his brother tightly.

Red Alert moved close, hugging the both of them. “He’s right, you are special to Prowl, we can all see it even if you can’t.”

Bluestreak hummed, “Maybe you are right, but I’m not getting my hope up. It just seemed like sparkbreak lies that way.”

“Possibly, but I would think it would be worth the chance,” Prism said, placing a chaste kiss on his brother’s cheek.  
Bluestreak smiled, pulling Prism and Red Alert close. “I don’t know what I would do without the two of you.” The rested their forehelms together, fields mingling in a comfortable way.

“We don't know what we would do without you,” Red Alert whispered and smiled.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Wildrider watched Vortex pace their current hideout. “I want you to go and see who this new mech is that is hanging about the twins. Perhaps we could use him.” The rotary mech quivered, he had not been the same since the little red mech had escaped his grasp. He had become...obsessive. He turned all of his resources, and all of his fledglings attentions to that end. They hid in the shadows, and watched Prowl’s compound. Watched the red bot go out on his jaunts through the city. He was cautious. Never alone. Always surrounded by guards, but even Wildrider knew that eventually he would slip up. The twins were a weak link, and he knew that his master would exploit it.

“Should I take my brothers?”

Vortex watched him, for a moment, “No, go alone, and try not to make a mess of things,” he finally said with a growl. He bared his fangs, making Wildrider flinch away.

“Do you want me to bring him back?”

“Not yet, just observe. I want to know how valuable he is to them. Perhaps he means nothing at all.” Wildrider could tell Vortex was counting on this little bot meaning a great deal to the twins. They were very hesitant to let anyone in their circle and their living space. This mech seemed to have made his way into both.

“Do--do you have anything on him, sir?” Wildrider asked, not liking Vortex’s full attention on him.

“Just Prism. I haven’t been able to find much information on the bot. I have sent Bludgeon to gather more information on the mech, but he is taking his time with it,” Vortex said, optics narrowing.

Wildrider nodded, he could tell Vortex’s patience was at it’s limit. It was worse than Motormaster’s anger. Neither was something he liked to face. His own optics narrowed and he bowed deeply to Vortex, “As you wish, my lord.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Prism puttered about the shop. He had not thought that the energon goodies would be such a hit when he suggest to Sideswipe that they add them to the goods for sale. He made limited quantities of them, but even so they sold out every sol, and the special treats they sold out of the shop for the vampires of Praxus were an even bigger hit. He made more than enough credits to buy the supplies to make them, as well as a tidy profit he tucked away for a special occasion. It made him feel as though he was being useful, helping out his family even though it was just a small thing. He arranged the little boxes of sweets by the counter, straightening his apron nervously as he looked at the display.

“What a pretty thing you are,” a voice came behind him, making Prism flinch. “Where is your price tag?” The mech asked, grabbing ahold of Prism’s arm and pulling Prism towards him.

Prism froze, joints stiffened in surprise. “Let me go, now.” He finally said finding his voice.

“Oh, you are the little bot that makes the sweets. I bet you taste even better than they do. No wonder Sunstreaker keeps you locked away,” He trapped Prism against the counter, ignoring the way the grey mech struggled to get free.  
“Just let me have a little taste,” the mech said, lip-plates pulling back to reveal sharp denta. They sank into Prism’s neck cording making him scream in pain.

“No, stop. Let me go,” Prism moaned pushing feebly at the feeding vampire. “Let me go.” The world grew fuzzy, and then there was a blur of red. The vampire was pulled off of him and flung across the gallery.

Prism went limp, and would have fallen to the floor had to red arms not caught him, and pulled him to the mech’s chest plating. “Sideswipe?” he asked, groggily. His optics unable to focus enough to make out the mech’s features.

“I’m here, you are safe,” Sideswipe said, holding Prism tightly.

Prism relaxed against him, as Sideswipe stepped into the lift up to the next floor. The room seemed to spin even though Sideswipe held him in place. Once they stepped into their living quarters he was taken to one of the couches and covered in a soft mesh before Sideswipe moved away, and left him there. Sideswipe came back kliks later and pressed a cube into his hands. Prism’s hands shook as he lifted it to his lips, but with each gulp of energon he ingested he gained a little strength.

“Sideswipe, are you okay?” Prism asked when his voice was steady. He watched the mech pace, his agitation clear.

“I’m fine---frag it all---you could have been killed. I should have ripped out that monster’s spark. How dare he come into our house and---”

“I’m fine though, Sideswipe,” Prism said, finishing off the cube.

“But---”

“No buts. You saved me. I’m fine, you shouldn't worry yourself over me,” Prism said as Sideswipe pushed another cube into his hands.

Sideswipe growled. “How can you say that? You were nearly drained. Do you not understand how devastated Sunstreaker would be if that happened? How upset I would be? I was just gone for a moment.”

“What happened,” Sunstreaker asked from the doorway, a scowl inching across his faceplates.

“Nothing I couldn't handle, Sunshine,” Sideswipe said, his optics falling on Prism. “Everything is fine.”

Sunstreaker’s optics narrowed, “Don’t call me that.” He moved close, sitting down next to Prism he tilted the bot’s neck, “What is this then?” he asked looking at the two ragged punctures that were slowly closing.

Sideswipe huffed, “There was an...incident in the gallery. I fixed it.”

“Fixed it? Prism was injured.” Sunstreaker snapped, pulling the smaller bot to him. Prism let out a little squeak but had no choice but to cling to Sunstreaker.

“Sunstreaker, I’m fine,” Prism said in exasperation when Sunstreaker started examining his plating closely looking for any dents. he growled loudly when he noticed the paint transfers along Prism’s thighs.

“How is this fine?” he picked the little mech up and headed towards the washrack. “I’m gonna kill whatever mech did this to you.”

“Sunny, I don’t even know his name, and Sideswipe threw him out anyway. You need to calm down,” he said as he was pushed under the solvent. “Sunny, are you even listening to me?”

The golden mech growled, and scrubbed at the paint transfers. “Gonna kill him. Gonna rip him apart.”

“I’m fine. Please listen to me,” but Prism could tell he wasn't getting through. “Sunstreaker!” He jerked the mech’s helm up hard, kissing him on the lips. It seemed to snap the golden mech out of his ranting, “Please calm down. I’m fine. I’m safe. Sideswipe came in time.”

The growl came back, “I should have been there. I should have protected you.”

“Sunstreaker, I am a grown mech. You can’t be with me all the time. It’s not possible, and I wouldn’t want you to do that anyway.”

Sunstreaker quivered, pulling Prism out from under the spray. “You don’t love me? You want me to leave?”

Prism blinked up at him, “That isn’t what I mean at all. Everyone needs time to themselves. Sometimes you like to work alone, and sometimes I do as well, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” Prism said gently, “I know you don’t like to be with Sideswipe all the time, he drives you crazy after a while, and you always end up fighting.”

Sunstreaker huffed, “That is different. He’s my brother.”

“And you love him too. Besides, he was there. He intervened before I was injured. You are worrying far too much, I’m not made of glass, and frankly between the two of you...well I’d feel safe even if there was an army after me. You make me feel safe, but you don’t have to worry. I’m not going to break, love,” Prism said softly, and stood on his ped tips, pressing his lips against Sunstreaker’s again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sunstreaker said gruffly, burying his face against Prism’s neck cording.

Prism looked up, watching Sideswipe who was hovering in the doorway. He hesitated for a moment before crossing the space between them. He leaned in, touching Prism’s neck cording. “I’m sorry.”

Prism could feel the red twins hurt radiating through his field. He couldn’t seem to help himself, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Sideswipe and held onto him tightly. Sideswipe stiffened for a moment, his optics going to Sunstreaker’s face to judge his reaction. Soon enough he relaxed knowing his twin accepted this, and moaned at Prism’s touch.

Prism hummed, pleased at Sideswipe’s reaction, “Thank you for saving me.” His lips quirked up, “

Sideswipe looked down at the smaller mech, dazed. “I--I---Primus you taste sweet.”

“So I have been told,” Prism said mischievously. “I would offer you a taste, but I don’t think it would be wise at the moment.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Sideswipe agreed, still holding him close. “I know Sunny wants to keep you close too. Perhaps we could just hold you then?”

He let Sideswipe pull him towards their berthroom, “I do.” He was far more shaken than he cared to admit.

Sunstreaker stood back for a moment, frowning, “I’m going to lock up first. I’ll be there in a moment.”

The berth was more than big enough for the three of them, with room to spare. Sideswipe climbed on and pulled Prism after him. He settled the small bot in his arms as they waited for Sunstreaker. Prism snuggled close, the warm plating against his back a comfort after the stressors of the day. “Thank you for saving me.”

Sideswipe grunted, pulling him closer, “It was nothing, don’t worry about it.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Wildrider made his way back through the tunnels to where Vortex was waiting for him. The taste of the mech still on his lips. He shivered. He could have drank the mech dry, easily. He cursed the red twin again for getting in his way. It was just as well though, it would have only have gotten him in trouble with Vortex.

The rotary was waiting for him in the dark, his red optics glowing faintly. “What did you find out?

“The mech’s name is Prism. He...smells like one of Prowl’s. Little Praxian. Very pretty. He tastes...scrap he tastes amazing, my lord. And...the twins are very protective of him. Sideswipe about beat the scrap out of me when he found me there.” His glossa flicked out and licked his lips.

Vortex nodded, optics steady. Wildrider could tell there was already a plan forming in the mech’s processor. “Bring him to me then.”

Wildrider bowed low, “As you wish.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Red Alert tucked his hand into the crook of Inferno’s arm, holding on tight as they walked down the street to the little cafe they liked to go to when they were able to get out together. Red had a sweet denta and loved the gelled energon they made.

He looked back, opticing the guards that trailed after them. It was annoying and made his armour clench tight against his protoform when he remembered that they were still following him around. There were more of them now. Prowl was paranoid that Vortex would try something now that Inferno was officially his betrothed.

On one servo Knock Out and Breakdown were thrilled that Prowl treated Red as one of their own, and took his safety very seriously. On the other servo Red Alert hated how they curtailed his freedom. It somehow seemed worse now. Unbearably so. It made him fret. Although, that was not the only thing weighing on his processor.

“Inferno, someone attacked Prism at the gallery yesterday. In the gallery. Can you imagine? Sides was so upset. Not that I can blame him. I told them they should put up more surveillance, and I’d even help. I want to help. i want them to be safe, but no. They wouldn't hear of it. And now look what happened.”

Inferno looked down at the smaller red mech and frowned, “Is he okay?”

“Yes, Sides got down there before there was any real damage. Scrap, had he not I don’t even want to think about what Sunny would have done had...he...loves Prism very much.”

“I know how that goes,” Inferno said, holding open the door of the cafe, and slipping in after. They ordered the usual mid-grade and a plate of gelled energon.

Red Alert ignored the guards that sat at a polite distance in various places around the cafe, not fueling, but keeping a steady optic on their charge. The other patrons ignored them in turn being accustomed to such things. They took it for granted that Red Alert was just another high-born brat. Red could tell by the way they looked at him, and he hated that too.

“You know, that look is going to freeze on your face if you keep scowling like that,” Inferno teased. He picked up a treat offering it to Red, and shivered delightfully when the little red Mech nibbled it from his fingers. His glossa flicked out shamelessly and licked the crumbs from Inferno’s finger tips.

“It might,” Red Alert said, “but you would love me just the same.”

Inferno hummed, “I would.”

He pulled out a box from his subspace and pushed it across the table to Red Alert.

“‘Ferno...what is this?” he reached over with a trembling hand and pulled the box to him, sliding it open and gasped. “W-what is this? I don’t understand.” He reached in and touched the gems inside the box. They glowed with an inner light that sent Red Alert’s spark spinning wildly. “W-where did you...what are they?”

“Bonding gems. From the temple of primus. Blessed by a Prime. They are Prowl’s gift to us, and his blessing to pick a date. I wish I could say that I got them for you myself. You deserve the best.”

Red Alert reached across the table, leaning in and pressed his lips against Inferno’s. “Whenever, wherever. You know I love you.”

“There is...more in the box though, pull out the tray,” Inferno said, smiling in a lopsided manner as he watched Red Alert.

Red Alert’s browplates knitted together, and he fumbled about for a moment before lifting the tray out of the box, he looked down at the etching tool. “Inferno...”

“You said you wanted to have a traditional bonding. You can’t get more traditional than this. I’ve made an appointment with an etcher to have the glyphs of intent etched onto our armour. I----I hope that wasn’t too presumptuous. And we will still need to pick out the setting for the gems.” His optics flicked up to Red Alert expectantly.

“Presumptious...” Red Alert giggled, “I think you’ve been around Streetwise too much. You know I love you. I want this as much as you do.”

Inferno felt nothing but relief. He had hoped this would go well and it exceeded his expectations. “I love you too, Red. I just hope I can make you happy.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Prism moaned, things had all gone wrong. He had stepped out of the shop for one moment to pick up some paint that Sunstreaker had ordered, not even thinking that he should get one of the twins to accompany him. He had not even heard the mech sneak up behind him, had not realized anything was wrong until he was grabbed, his arm wretched behind him. It had been a surprise, but no more than the needle shoved into his neck line. It had hurt. The fluid that was pushed into his lines had burned, leaving his system running hot and then dropped him into recharge. He had fought it, but it was no use. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he found himself in this cell, chained to the berth. The drug seemed to still be lingering in his system leaving him drowsy, unable to even summon the strength to move or fight against the restraints.

He looked around wildly, but the room was dim, and he was alone. Fear gripped his system.

“Is anyone there?” he whispered, a whimper leaving his vocalizer. “Someone help me. Get me out of here. Please. Someone help me.”

There was a stirring across the room, and finally a large mech stepped from the shadows. He towered over Prism, his red visor glittered malevolently in the dim light. “Mmmm...I see that you are finally online again.” The mech said, moving close, his field pushing against Prism’s forcefully. Prism’s plating clamped down tightly against his protoform. “Time to play,” he said, fangs peaking out from his mouth as his mask snapped open.

Prism screamed, pulling against bonds.

Vortex hummed in pleasure at the terror rolling off the mech, “Mmmm...I can see why the keep you around, you are beautiful.” He leaned over Prism, nuzzling his neck cording, fangs grazing against the thin malleable metal hard enough to draw energon. His fangs sank in, biting deeply into an energon line.

Prism whimpered, fingers clenching as he felt the mechblood drain from his system. It hurt. There was no pleasure racing through him like there always was when the twins drank from him. He felt weak as the vampire continued to drain him. Finally the monster pulled away, licking Prism’s mechblood from his lips. “Perhaps I will drain you dry, pretty one.”

Vortex moved away from him, going to a cabinet on the other end of the room, the doors swung open revealing blades that glinted in the dim light, and other things that were lost in the shadows. Prism had a feeling that he did not want to find out what those other things were. He had no care to. He whimpered when Vortex turned back around, brandishing a laser scalpel.

“I think we will get rid of some of that pesky armour first, send it to Prowl, perhaps. I bet he would like that. A little memento to let him know I’m still gunning for him.” Vortex purred at the thought.

“Please don’t do this,” Prism begged as the scalpel was lowered cutting into one door panel. It cut deep, cutting through sensors and cauterizing energon lines as it passed through. He screamed until his voice was nothing but spitting static, and still the rotary did not stop. Vortex gave the same treatment to the other doorwing, tossing both severed limbs to the floor.

Prism was insensate by the time Vortex started carving up his abdominal armour. He prayed to Primus that he would bleed out. At least the pain would end. He did not though, he lingered, delirious, but online as Vortex cut hunks out of his armor, so many that Prism lost count before the rotary finally became board of that game.

Vortex went back to the cabinet, and came back with a tool that Prism had only seen in a medics office. A bar to hold open spark plates. His struggled renewed, and became more frantic as Vortex loomed over him a grin on his face.

“Frag, you are gorgeous. I hope Sunshine appreciates the vids I’m going to send of you.” He put the tool into place and wretched Prism’s sparkplates open, revealing his filmed spark. “Well...this is surprising.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Prism’s head lolled to the side as he slumped against the door. He wondered, in a lucid moment, if the twins would find him in time. His spark pulsed weakly in his chest, growing weaker by the moment. Thankfully, the energon loss had left him mostly numb, aside from the burning in his lines. That hurt, but not enough to shake him from his stupor. Warnings flashed across his HUD. Too many to count.

He saw a red flash, and for one moment he thought it was Sideswipe, but no...the field felt entirely different and the mechs voice was entirely different. He was smaller, and he struggled to pull Prism inside. They were nearly of a size.

Pain flared as the mech managed to get him inside the doors, and pulled them shut against the sol’s light. They fell to the floor together, the other mech panting, and then yelling as he got back up to his peds. Yelling so loud it hurt Prism’s processor, even then he could not make out what the mech was saying, or even place his he was. He felt as though he was floating, and finally to his relieve the world faded away and then went entirely black.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Red Alert and his guards had been heading towards the gallery when he had noticed the crowd. The guards pushed through and gasped as he spotted Prism sprawled across the steps. “What the frag are you doing just standing there. He’s hurt,” he found himself screaming and surged forward, pulling Prism with him. It was hard. The mech was nearly the same size as he was, and a dead weight. He made it through the doors, snapping them shut behind him, and finally fell to the floor with Prism. He scrambled up yelling for his brothers.

The main room was full of light, and finally in his frustration he opened the doors, letting the guards in. “Pick him up we need to get him out of the main room.” He looked up, cursing the skylight that let light trickle into the large open room. “Now,” he snapped, watching the biggest heave Prism into his arms and they followed Red Alert down into the heart of the building, up to the darkened second floor.

He rushed to the twin’s room, shaking Sunstreaker until his brother stirred, and blinked at him through bleary optics. “W-what?”

“Prism was hurt. You need to get up. He’s dying. He won’t last much longer.”

Sunstreaker jumped up, wide optics, and startled Sideswipe, who sat up still looking more than half in recharge. Red Alert grabbed Sunstreaker’s arm pulling the much larger mech toward the door.

“I’m dreaming right?” Sideswipe said, stumbling after them.

The guards had moved Prism into the common room, laying him out on one of the large couches. He was limp and unresponsive, his optics only dimly lit. “He would not survive the trip to the medic,” one of the guards said, “His spark has been trying to gutter, so if you are going to turn him I suggest you waste little time.”

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe fell on Prism, shooing the guards away as Sunstreaker cut a large swath across his chest and pulled Prism to him. He pressed the little bot’s mouth against the wound, nearly breathing a sigh of relief as he finally felt Prism latch on, his grip becoming slowly stronger. Sunstreaker eventually pulled away fromt he still hungry mech, and Sideswipe took his place, cradling Prism against him. His optics were closed as Prism fed, and stroked the little mechs back plating. The pain would come soon enough as the mech went through the change.

Red Alert watched with wide optics, until finally they moved away from Prism. The mech seemed to be in recharge where he was left sprawled.

“Can you have one of the guards bring Knock Out here? I don’t think it would be a good idea to move him, and he needs to be sedated while his body goes through the change.”

Red Alert nodded, turning to the commander of the guards, “Please go, and tell him to bring supplies. Prism needs repairs as well.”

The mech nodded, “As you will. Do not leave this building.”

“I won’t,” Red Alert said, nodding and watching Prism’s slack face. His processor whirled. He knew those marks carved on Prism. They made his spark pulse. He knew that the only thing that would stop Vortex was going to him. That thought terrified Red Alert, but he also could not bear to see anyone else he loved torn up as Prism had been. Who would be next? The Twins? Inferno?

He waited until the guard was gone, and his brothers distracted before slipping out of the building. He couldn’t let this happen again. He had no other choice.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Red Alert wandered into the seedier part of the city, the building were dirty and dark, but he knew he would find Vortex there he only had to wait until dark. He walked down the dank streets, grit and grime under his peds. It wasn’t long before he could feel optics on him. He never saw their presence, but he could feel them watching him from a distance. It made his plate prickle, and let him know that he had crossed into Vortex’s territory.

He was only a little surprised when the mech himself stepped from the shadows, and loomed over him, casting him in shadow. “My mate. You have returned to me.”

His smile froze Red Alert’s spark. “I-I have. T-that is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He shook as he stepped closer, and offered a hand up to the rotary mech. He bit back a whimper as he was pulled close.

“You know it is.” Vortex tilted up Red Alert’s face and looked down at him. “You should never of left. You made me hurt mechs.”

Red Alert did not see it that way at all, but he held his peace. It would do no good at all to anger this monster. He hurt. His spark hurt at the loss of his happiness, and his beloved. He knew though that this would keep Inferno safe. “I should not have. You are right. I am so very sorry, Vortex. I won’t do it again.”

Vortex hummed, “I will make sure you can’t this time.” He lunged, pulling Red Alert close, his fangs sinking into the small mech’s neck plating. Red Alert cried out, and tried to pull away, but Vortex was far too strong.  
He pawed at the mech frantically as he felt his lifeblood slowly drain away. Finally the edges of his vision grew dark, and he was, eventually, dragged completely under as the darkness engulfed him.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

The lighting was wrong. Long lights flickered unsteadily overhead. Red Alert was laid out on a medical slab, but it was not Knock Out’s medbay. This was cold and dank. A mech loomed over him, green and sever looking. He glowed faintly in the dim light.

Red Alert tried to sit up, his body felt odd, and heavy. It took him a moment to realize the his legs were not responding. They remained against the cold berth, lifeless.

The medic laughed, high and loud. “His lordship does not want you leaving again. I disconnected your motor relays to your legs.” He giggled again, optics glowing bright and green. “You won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

Red Alert offlined his optics, willing himself not to cry. This was harder than he imagined it would be.

“How is my mate?” Vortex asked, looming over the medberth. Red Alert had not heard him approach.

“He is as you wished, your lordship,” the green mech said, leering down at Red Alert.

Vortex smiled, a nasty little smirk, “Thank you Oilslick. Your work is...perfect as always.” He leaned over, scooping Red Alert up into his arms in a horrible parody of a lover’s embrace. “He is perfect.”

Red Alert leaned against Vortex’s chest, some part of his processor knew he had been drugged. As soon as he was moved the room spun about. He found himself clutching at Vortex in an attempt to stop spinning. “Vortex?”

“I am here, my love. You will be good this time, won’t you? I would hate to have to have Oilslick do more work on you.” He leaned in, and nuzzled Red Alert’s sensory horns, nipping at them until Red cried out, optics flaring bright.

“I’ll be good,” he whispered. “I promise.”

“I know you will,” Vortex said as he carried Red Alert out of the room, and into the hall. Red Alert’s optics took in the hall a shiver of fear moving through him. The building had been nice once. A noblemech’s home no doubt. Now...the hall was dingy, and splattered with mechblood. Grey husks that had once been living mech’s were mounted on the walls, all in various stages of decay. The smell of rust was thick and cloying, making Red Alert’s tank protest.

The room that they finally entered was worse by far. Some of the mechs hanging from the walls were still alive. Barely. Their optics were dim, and flickered as they followed Vortex as he moved into the room and finally sat down on the grand throne at the far end of the audience chamber.

Vortex settled down with Red Alert on his lap. The mech’s plating was horribly hot at he looked out at the mech’s gathered in the room. Their red optics stared hungrily at Red Alert, making a whimper escape from his throat. Vortex’s claws moved across his chassis settling over his panel, and dug in, scraping across the metal and threatening to crumple the thin metal. Red Alert let the panel snap open before Vortex, and offlined his optics, unable to bear the other mechs watching him.

His ventilation stuttered as he felt himself lifted, and pushed down on the spike below him. Spines scraped the walls of his valve in a far too familiar way, making his frame heat up almost immediately. His helm fell back against Vortex. The heat in his chassis became unbearable as they fell into a familiar rhythm.  
“I missed you so much,” Vortex growled into his audial, bucking up and hitting Red Alert’s ceiling node over and over until the little mech cried out when overload washed over him. “You were always so responsive,” Vortex murmured, using him through the overload and pushing him into another.

“Vortex,” Red Alert cried out, arching against the Rotary. His valve clenched down hard, a scream escaping his throat as the spines dug in drawing energon. Vortex roared above him, his claws biting into Red Alert’s sides as Transfluid poured into the smaller mech’s valve and dripped out as his gestation tank overflowed.

They fell back together, panting. Red Alert closed his optics, utterly exhausted. The roar of the mechs around him made his optics flutter open, and stare at the crowd he had nearly forgotten was there. They leered, making lewd comments. Red listened in horror, humiliated to his core. Vortex did this to him, and made him want more. How could have have ever deserved to be with Inferno...he did not know.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Prowl looked down at the doorwings that had been left for the sentries to find. He knew that plating, the shimmer when they were shifted and the rainbows that danced across them when they were moved in the light.

His spark skipped a beat, and then swirled angrily that one of his own had been hurt. He scowled, and tried to comm Knock Out, only to get no answer. He tried again, and again, stomping his way to the medbay... only to find it empty.

He tried to comm both of the twins, which much the same results. He huffed, trying to comm them over and over even as he left his own quarters and started to go to the hallway that lead up into the city above. He was nearly flattened by a red and gold streak as he neared the hallway.

“Get out of the way. MOVE!” Sunstreaker bellowed, holding a limp Prism to his chestplates. Sideswipe, Knockout followed close behind, with Breakdown following more slowly.

“Have you seen Red Alert?” Breakdown asked, slowing down when he spotted Prowl.

It was all Prowl could do not to snarl. He stopped himself as Breakdown’s words registered. “He is not with you?”

“No, my Lord. He slipped the guards as soon as Suntreaker got to Prism. There was no sign of him when we got there. Oh frag, do you think he went to that monster? His name was all over Prism’s plating.”

“I’m well aware. Vortex...left a gift for me.”

“A gift?”

Prowl growled, “Prism’s doorwings.”

Breakdown nodded, looking alarmed, “Frag. I...Knock Out is comm’ing me to get to the medbay. You should bring the doorwings. He says he can reattach them. Knock Out thinks he...might need some of your blood too. There was just so much damage.”

“Fine. I will be there momentarily,” Prowl said going back the way he had came to retrieve the appendages.

When he made it to the infirmary Prism was lying listlessly across the medical berth. His plating dull and nearly greying. Knock Out was working on him, frantically trying to repair the worst of the mech’s injuries. He looked up as Prowl entered, and looked relieved. “He needs your mech-blood. The twin’s was not strong enough to make the repairs and turn him.”

Prowl stared at him. “Knock Out.”

“Fragin’ pit, get over here. He’s not going to make it without more energon.”

“Fine,” Prowl said as he moved to Prism’s side. He ignored the guttural growls that followed him as the twins stared him down.

“You can’t have our mate. He is ours,” Sunstreaker said, his optics taking on a crimson hue.

Prowl glared back, optics narrow, “He is of my line. I have more claim on him than you ever will. Had you been more vigilant none of this would have ever happened. You have taken my gift to you and destroyed it.” His expression softened as he turned back to Prism and ripped into an energon line in his arm.

Prism moaned softly as the mech-blood trickled down his throat. He clamped onto Prowl’s arm, drinking deeply. Prism stirred, his optics flew open and he pushed away from Prowl.

“Sunstreaker. Sunny,” he scuttled away from Prowl, or would have if the old vampire not grabbed a hold of him.

“Shhhh...little one. The change will start soon. You do not want to be awake for that, I can guarantee it,” Prowl said, motioning to Knock Out to come forward.

“He is right, you need to recharge,” Knock Out said pushing a needle into Prism’s main energon line. Prism fell back onto the berth, his optic flickering for a moment before they went offline and the mech was plunged back into stasis.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Inferno watched from the far end of the medbay as Knock Out worked on his friend. Red Alert was missing, they didn’t have to tell him for the big mech to work it all out. His beloved was sacrificing himself so no one else would be hurt. He couldn't allow it.

He wouldn't stand for it. He watched Knock Out work for a moment longer, and when he knew that Knock Out and Breakdown were busy he slipped out intent on finding Red Alert. He palmed a laser scalpel on his way out, and grabbed his own weapons from his rooms before heading up into the city. He would put a stop to this one way or another. Fear made his spark clench. He did not want to offline, but he knew he would do what he had to to free Red at last.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Prowl had watched the youngling closely, knowing he would do something rash once he had heard the news of Red Alert’s disappearance. Inferno did not disappoint. He tailed the youngling as he fled down the darkened streets, and into the part of town his own people rarely went into. It reeked of stale energon and rust. It had once been one of the better parts of the city, and even know some noblebots were trying to reclaim it, building the palaces in the seemingly desolate wasteland of old, ruined buildings.

Inferno was not careful as he trudged between the buildings. Prowl knew the moment that Vortex’s guardbots started following the young mech. He hid himself from them, following them at a distance, nothing but a shadow in the corner of their optics. They never suspected his presence, other than a passing uneasiness.

Finally they reached what had to be Vortex’s stronghold. The building itself was mostly new. Renovated by some noble family no doubt. Prowl could not imagine they were still among the living at best they had been turned, but he doubted that it was not in Vortex’s nature to have mercy. He took out the guards as he passed them, leaving the mechs slumped on the floor and drained of all energon. As old as he was his hunger was a bottomless pit. It burned and raged inside of him, even still it guttered, flickering out and leaving him fuller than he had been in centuries. Still he burned off the energy quickly.

But the time he reached Vortex’s inner sanctum the hunger flared back to life, raging after some older life force. He sat in waiting for his moment, listened to Vortex rant and rave at Inferno. Listened to the threats drop, and the promises made. Neither mech seemed aware of his presence, and Red Alert was delirious with loss of energon.

Prowl watched that youngling as the other two postured, and circled each other. It was all a game to Vortex. He baited Inferno. Prowl watched until he could take no more. He finally stepped from the shadows, his gaze fixed on Vortex. “It is past time for there to be an end to this.”

Vortex looked up, startled. The expression on his face was one of dumb surprise. Had the situation been different Prowl would have laughed. As it was he had little humour left in him. His patience has stretched past all means of endurance.

“End this?” Vortex snarled, when he finally came back to himself. “You wouldn't dare. You are weak. You have always been weak.”

Prowl laughed before he could stop himself, it was a cold thing like drops of liquid nitrogen that fell in succession. “I would,” he finally said crossing the distance between them before Vortex could scurry away. Prowl was smaller than the Rotary, but his size made him that much quicker. He struck like a magnaviper, clinging to Vortex’s plating even as he ripped into it. His claws found their way into sensitive seams, ripped wires. Vortex screamed, an energon curdling sound that sent Inferno running. He grabbed Red Alert, but at that moment Prowl could not be bothered with the younglings. He was too busy ripping through energon lines, nearly elbow deep in Vortex chassis. Claws ripped, sinking into the protective casing of the mech’s sparkchamber. Prowl ripped it away like it was nothing but thin membrane and not the protective casing of a war-build.

Vortex’s spark stuttered, and finally quit altogether as Prowl’s hand closed around it and ripped it from it’s casing. The rotarymech fell limp to the floor, his optics finally dark.

The younglings cowered, hiding in a corner as far away as they could get. Prowl had to coax them from their hiding place, but eventually they came out more from the glamourie that Prowl put on their processors than through any will of their own.

Inferno watched him with wary optics, “I don’t understand. Why did you follow me?”

Prowl smiled, his features softening, “You are under my protection. I have failed you once already, do you think I would do so again?”

Inferno’s optics widened, the glamourie making him more forthright than he normally would be about such a thing. “No...I guess not. You have always cared for us. I don’t know why. We are just streetmechs. Nothing special.”

“Youngling, you are one of mine. I never want to hear you say such a thing again. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” he said, clutching Red Alert to him. Red Alert vented softly, a smile played across his lips as the glamourie held onto him, keeping him dazed and quiet.

“You will bond with Red Alert, I expect you to do the honorable thing, you have my blessing, do we understand each other?”

“Yes,” Inferno said, optics unusually bright as the suggestion took hold.

“Good,” Prowl said, glancing back at the building they left. No one approached them as they took their leave, but Prowl could feel optics on them, watching. Taking their measure and cowering away.

The journey home was not long.

It was a relief when Prowl finally left the younglings in the care of their medic.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Prism cracked an optic open, his processor felt odd. Everything about him felt odd. He cracked one optic open, and was not surprised to see gold plating. If he could turn he was sure he would see red behind him. He was warm, despite the strangeness, and the too sharp vision. Everything looked sharp in ways it never had before. Too crisp. The dim light hurt his optics so he closed them, and let himself try to process the events that had led him to the place he was at now.

It was a cluttered blur. One he could make little sense of no matter how many times he replayed the memories in his processor. He hurt, and when he finally wiggled out from between the twins he finally noticed the webwork of half-healed weld lines.

His venting grew ragged, he closed his optics and reminded himself over and over that he was not with Vortex anymore. He was safe. He was with the twins. It would all be okay. But it didn’t feel okay at all. He felt...terrified.

“Prism?” Sunstreaker asked, stirring beside him.

“Sunstreaker,” Prism flung himself at the gold mech, holding on tightly. “I was so scared. I thought I would never see you or Sides again, and he hurt me so badly. I begged him to stop. To kill me. But he just...just wouldn’t. It was...” he buried his face against Sunstreaker’s neck plating.

“I know,” the golden twin said, hugging the little mech to him, “I’m so sorry you went through that. It’s all our fault. We should have protected you better. Or...stayed away from you I guess. He never would have taken you had he not known how much we cared for you.”

“Don’t say that. I love you. I love you both. I never---I never want to leave your side.”

“Prism.”

“Don’t Prism me. I know what I want. I want you both. I want us to bond.”

Sunstreaker blinked at him, “Now?”

“The sooner the better. I don't want to---to take the chance that we would be separated again. Not like that. I love you, and that is not going to change.”

Sunstreaker’s gaze softened. He pulled Prism close, catching his mouth in a soft kiss. “Soon then. After we talk to Prowl.”

“No, Sunny. I don’t want to wait. I...please. I need you. I’m so scared by myself in here,” he said pressing Sunstreaker’s hand to his sparkplates. “I...I want his marks burnt away. I just...please.”

Sunstreaker wavered, “My love. I---fine. If that is what you really want.”

Prism gave him a relieved smile. “It is. More than anything.” His frame relaxed. he had not even realized his joints had tightened in such a way.

“When Sideswipe comes online then,” Sunstreaker said, and pulled Prism back down on the berth, kissing him carefully as if he might break.

Prism kissed him back hard, fangs sliding out for the first time. It surprised the little mech, but not enough to pull away. He had already suspected what had happened, the tumult of confused memories flowed through him again as he tasted Sunstreaker’s energon again. He moaned against his maker’s lips frame heating up, and a tightness grew inside his spark.

Sideswipe stirred behind them, making a pleased noise. He pressed a kiss between Prism’s doorwings, across sensitive joints, along the wings edge until Prism was crying out against Sunstreaker’s lips.

When they finally join sparks the bond slipped into place as comfortable as if it had always been there. Prism curled against them spark still reaching out to the twins through the newly formed bond. He felt safe. Content. As if he had finally found his home.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Returning to the citadel was a blur in Inferno’s processor, but the conversation with Prowl was not. It’s crisp still as he sat in the medbay and Knock Out puttered about them, poked and prodded. Inferno could feel worry radiating off of Knock Out’s field. Usually he kept his field neutral, but this is different. He could tell Knock Out blamed himself for Red Alert going to Vortex. Inferno wanted to reach out. He wanted to hold onto the mech that was the closest thing to a creator he had ever had, but he let it go. It would not help he knew. Only time could heal these wounds.

“Knock Out,” Red Alert said, as he grasped Knock Out’s hands he pulled the mech to him, and held on tightly.

“Oh, bitlet, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I made my choice. It was foolish, I know, but I just...I just couldn’t let,” a sob escaped Red Alert’s vocalizer. Knock Out held him tightly, rocking the smaller mech, and rubbing his spinal strut.  
“I didn’t want him to hurt anyone else. Prism...was...it was horrible. He would have done the same to Inferno, to you, to Breakdown. I couldn't take it. I couldn’t let him do that.”

“Red.”

“I know. You feel the same about him doing that to me. But maybe I deserve it. I’m just...I don’t know. There is something wrong with me.”

Knock Out vented, and leaned their helms together, “Runt, that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say. Frag. We all love you more than anything. Do you not understand? We just----frag----don’t ever do that again, my spark can’t take it.” He tilted his head up, pressing a kiss against Red Alert’s helm. He leaned away, and motioned for Red Alert to lie down. “Let’s get you scanned, repaired and out of here.”

Inferno watched the exchange, his own optics stinging. Sometimes it was just too much. He hoped that Red would never do something so foolish and impulsive again, but Red, was Red and sometimes he could not be stopped from being impulsive.

“You’re next, Inferno,” Knock Out said, opticing him from where he scanned Red Alert.

“I figured as much,” Inferno said. His processor went back to Prowl’s words. He didn’t want to wait any more. He wanted to bind his spark with Red Alert’s. Fear of losing the mech he loved threatened to engulf him, but he ruthlessly pushed it away. It would do neither of them any good.

“Chin up,” Breakdown said as he came into the medbay. He grabbed Inferno, and hugged him tightly. “Frag if you two did not give up both a scare.”

Inferno hugged him back, and let Breakdown’s field comfort him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, feeling like a little sparkling under Breakdown’s regard.

“I know bitlet.”

“I’m not a bitlet,” Inferno said, cracking a smile, but he let himself be held, and held on to Breakdown in turn.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Red Alert was a resilient mech, Inferno could not help but think so as they walked arm in arm down the street. He had recovered from his bout with Vortex far faster than anyone had expected. If anything he seemed grateful that the mech had been deactivated. It was like a weight had been lifted from both of their shoulders.

Red Alert leaned into him as they walked to their destination. Both mech’s fields were buzzing with excitement. It had been a long journey, but this sol they would come one step closer to bonding. Red Alert nearly skipped as they walked into the etcher’s shop. There had been much discussion leading to the point. They had taken nearly a deca-cycle working with Sunstreaker to create a design for their betrothal etchings. The decided on an intricate design that would be etched onto their sparkplates, a design that encompassed the traditional bonding sigils and Sunstreaker’s own flair. Eventually the bonding gems that Inferno had procured would be mounted within the design once they bonded.

Red Alert was giddy. Even the promise of the pain from the actual etching could not dissuade him. His spark felt lighter than it had in a vorn. He held onto Inferno tightly, ready for anything.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Notes-

  
 ***** Prism’s plating and refs:[Prism Ref 1](http://dellessanna.deviantart.com/art/Prism-Reference-OC-2-406030878)  
[Prism Ref 2](http://dellessanna.deviantart.com/art/Prism-Reference-OC-405761931) <http://images.sodahead.com/profiles/0/0/3/1/0/4/8/7/9/fire-opal-74410778748.jpeg>.  
<http://www.lotustalk.com/forums/attachments/f3/78784d1208068693-08-colors-moonstone.jpg>  
<http://www.lotustalk.com/forums/attachments/f94/154080d1285622994-sale-one-kind-elise-sc-09.jpg>  
 ***** Praxian society: <http://www.literary-liaisons.com/article009.html> XD  
 ***** Crystalized energon sculptures: <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tqpz7hN-Bkg>  
<http://dusk-nightstalker.tumblr.com/post/30957190468/i-almost-went-to-culinary-school-just-so-i-could>

***** Red Alert and Inferno inspired by: <http://mucun.deviantart.com/art/Henkei-RedAlert-and-Inferno-121054586>, <http://luanatf.deviantart.com/art/Robocity-World-Sleeping-59713634>, [http://straya.deviantart.com/art/TF-Red-Alert-Portrait-Final-22010436 ](http://straya.deviantart.com/art/TF-Red-Alert-Portrait-Final-22010436%20)  
<http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzd3exhsgi1qg9hfro1_500.png> NSFW

 ***** The Adventures of Foxfire, by Lightbar. Case 1: The Suspicious Sparkling. Case 2: The Turbofox of Terror. Case 3: The Curious Carosel. Case 4: The Maudlin Mech. Case 5: The Furious Femme. Case 6: The Secret of the Skiff. Case 7: The Mystifying Maze. Case 8: The Starling Seeker. Case 9: The Terrible Truckbot. Case 10: The Reckless Racer. Case 11: The Cruel Carier. Case 12: The Priest in the Pitt. Case 13: The Night Knocker. Case 14: The Gruesome Guardbot. Case 15: The Misguided Medic. Case 16: The Illuminated Lure. Case 17: The Cunning Constructionbot. Case 18: The Missing Mechanimals. Case 19: The Shifty Shuttle. Case 20: The Pretend Prime. Thanks to Pheonix for helping me come up with book titles. =D We had a lot of fun with that.


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